


Lost and Found

by barefootblonde



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Romance, Bikers, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Flashbacks, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Jax Teller Being an Asshole, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Romance, Teasing, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 84,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootblonde/pseuds/barefootblonde
Summary: Dylan Shaw hasn’t stepped foot in Charming in 13 years, but when Samcro’s VP is arrested on murder charges, she’s drawn back into the fold, and on assignment to write a profile on the accused murderer.She lost her heart the last time she was in town, and now, she’ll find that the ghosts lurking around aren’t so dead and buried, and that accused murderer might not be as guilty as he looks.Jax/OC.
Relationships: Jax Teller/Original Character(s), Jax Teller/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures, pulling the puzzles apart  
_ _Questions of science, science and progress  
_ _Do not speak as loud as my heart  
_ _But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me  
_ _Oh, and I rush to the start  
_ _-Coldplay_

Dylan brought her coffee mug up to her lips and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes ran over the last few lines of her editorial piece, which was also due in her editor’s inbox in about…three minutes. With one last scan, and a self-satisfied nod, she hit save one last time, and then sent the email off to Nick.

He was well-versed in the way she operated anyway, so it wasn’t like he was sitting there, tapping his foot in impatience. She always delivered. The delivery just tended to come right at the last minute.

She was not, however, anticipating a response ten seconds later.

“Shaw!”

Dylan’s head snapped up at the sound of Nick’s voice, only to find him hovering outside his office with a smirk on his face. Her piece was done. It was done on time. And there was no way he’d even had a chance to _open_ her email, so where the hell was the fire?

Nick sure didn’t waste any time, and he waved her into his office now, like whatever he had to say to her, it literally couldn’t wait another second. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, but still obliged him, pushing out of her chair at her workstation and headed over to her editor’s office. He gestured to his open door with a flourish, towering over her as that smirk on his face only deepened.

So damn impatient when he wanted something, just like he always was.

“What’s up, Nick?”

She didn’t even bother sitting down because there was still plenty of work to do at her desk, and hopefully, he wouldn’t keep her too long with his not-so-subtle reprimand about cutting her deadlines close by a nose. And unfortunately for her, he pressed a tight smile on his face as he passed her a folded newspaper. She knew that smile - and it meant that whatever he had to say was something she really, _really_ wasn’t going to like.

Nick tipped his chin to the newspaper in her hand. “I’m sure you’ve seen that particular headline by now.”

Dylan unfolded the paper, and glanced down at the headline of yesterday’s _Los Angeles Times._ Her heart slid right into her stomach as her eyes drifted over the words: “Sons of Anarchy MC Vice President Arrested in Suspected Hit on President of Rival Gang.”

When her gaze flitted over the suspected murderer’s mugshot, with its grainy focus and even grimmer purpose, tears pricked her eyes. She sucked in a shaky breath, but then she swallowed all that down, focusing on the matter at hand, and the fact that she had a pretty good idea where Nick was going with this. 

“Yeah,” Dylan murmured, her voice sounding a little more foreign to her now than it did before. “I’ve seen it.”

She’d seen it this morning over a cup of coffee as she skimmed her Google alerts, and then she immediately burst into tears at the sight of her former next-door neighbor’s mugshot splattered across her iPad screen. 

The tears had shocked her - they _still_ shocked her, but he just looked so different, so _adult_ , and all man with his long, scruffy beard and stick-straight brown hair that fell past his shoulders. He’d always been the tallest and the brawniest one of their group growing up, and that clearly hadn’t changed. Underneath all that scruff and all that brawn, the baby face of her childhood friend was still in there somewhere, but it was his eyes that had really stunned her the most. She remembered soft, thoughtful brown eyes - the eyes staring back at her in that mugshot were hard and unfeeling, like the charges he faced were just trivial. Like he wasn’t sorry about it at all.

She’d been dreading this current conversation ever since she’d skipped across that headline, which was also probably why she’d procrastinated on her latest assignment until the very last minute to put this off for as long as humanly possible. Obviously, to no great success.

“I’m sure you know what I’m gonna say next,” Nick told her with a sympathetic smile. “But the chiefs upstairs want a profile on this guy, and I already told them nobody but you is flying over there to do it.”

Dylan’s lips parted to protest, but Nick held up a hand as he leaned back against his desk, kicking his feet out leisurely against the floor like they were just having a casual conversation here, and then he pushed up his sleeves like he was gearing up for a fight.

“Listen, Dee -”

Her eyebrows lifted at that, and he immediately held up both hands, his lips pulling apart in an apologetic grimace. He knew better than to throw that in her face right now, to stoop that low and play on a history that they’d more or less set behind them. 

“Sorry, Shaw,” Nick tried again, this time a little more cautious, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose as he spoke. “Alright. _Alright._ I know this isn’t exactly an ideal assignment for you. And I know we typically don’t care too much about what’s going on in the West Coast unless it goes big, and this shit went _big_ , Shaw. I saw it on CNN this morning. MSNBC too. This is bigger than just the _LA Times_ over there. The chiefs upstairs want this story, and they don’t just want a story, they want _the_ story. They want this guy’s life down on ink - the ups and the downs, what the hell went wrong in his life that he ended up with handcuffs around his wrists for the murder of rival MC’s president. They’re seeing this as a perfect opportunity to highlight not just organized crime in this country, but the culture that predicates it and nurtures it. Or, at least that’s the bullshit they fed me this morning when they threw this my way.”

Fine. The magazine was well within its rights to want a story like that. This could be a knockout assignment for someone too - as long as that someone wasn’t _her_.

“Nick, you know I can’t do it.”

He nodded tersely, lifting his hands again before folding his arms around his chest. “I told Mark and Graham about your brother already -”

Dylan’s lips parted yet again to protest, but he held up a hand in solidarity.

“I know, okay? I know you didn’t want them, or anyone else for that matter, knowing about all that, but it is what it is. There was no way around it because when you write this profile, you gotta disclose that your brother’s the - shit, what’s that called again? The sergeant at call?”

She huffed out a tense laugh and shook her head. “Cash is the sergeant at arms.”

“Right,” Nick just shrugged. “So, like I said, when you write this profile, you gotta disclose that your brother’s not just a member, but a high-ranking _officer_ . But, I think, if you just focus on your subject and _his_ life and _his_ story, and not make it about your brother or the club - I mean, I know you’ll have to talk about club culture, but you’re smart enough to know how to skate around that grey area when it comes to that. But honestly, Shaw, it’s gotta be you. There’s no one else here that knows that town like you do, or knows anything at all about that club, and Jesus, you _know_ him. You freakin’ lived next-door to the guy for, what, ten years?”

“Seven,” Dylan corrected with a heavy sigh.

“Exactly,” Nick nodded. “Seven _years_. The thing that might make you the most biased to this guy, Shaw, is actually the thing that makes you the most credible reporter to do it. I mean, you really want me to send someone else who doesn’t know him like you did? Who just sees his rap sheet and sees him as a biker gangster and a criminal? Is that what you really want?”

Dylan pushed out a sigh, her heart already tightening in hopeless resignation. No, that wasn’t what she wanted. Anyone else would just paint him as a monster and a killer, no real questions asked. He wasn’t a monster. Maybe he really _was_ a killer, if anything in those articles she’d read was true, but he wasn’t a monster.

His eyes in that mugshot told a different story, and that was what both terrified her and spurred her to get on that plane. If he _had_ turned into a monster, if the club had done that, if life had done that, it was hard to imagine any of that was really what he’d wanted. And if that was really the case, he had a story that needed to be told. 

But going back to Charming for any length of time felt a little bit like a punishment all on its own.

“I know you don’t wanna go back there, but I think you have to. I mean, I’m _telling_ you you’re going, but you know what I mean. This might be the only chance you’re ever gonna get, and I think you should take it.”

Dylan swallowed back the mounting dread and the soul-crushing panic threatening to take hold of her throat. “I can’t imagine he’s even gonna agree to talk to me. Or anyone else in town. And _no one_ even remotely connected to the club is gonna talk to me, Nick. You have to know that.”

And the reasons why no one even remotely connected to the club would want to talk to her were just multiplying exponentially by the second.

“Well, I guess you just gotta start at the source and work your way through it, like you always do. You’ve got plenty to start with anyway from what’s already been reported - and you used to be friends with his wife, right? Maybe that’s another place you gotta start.”

“Right,” Dylan huffed. “I’m sure Donna’s just gonna love me showing up outta nowhere, after all this time, poking around and asking questions about what her husband was doing at an escort service’s main house in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Well, that’s where he was, right? What he was doing there _earlier_ in the day is pretty damn obvious, too, and I suppose I can see why his wife might not appreciate those kinds of questions…and the kind of questions it would just bring up about their marriage and how long he’d been making house calls at that place, but I want you to tell his story, Shaw. His marriage is part of that story too.”

Dylan’s eyes flicked up to him in annoyance. “Some things should be off-limits.”

He just shrugged again. “Maybe that’s true. But starting at Diosa might be as good a place to start as any if you run into interference from his wife or anyone in the club.”

From the little bit Cash had told her in the last few years about the club’s business dealings, the club had a 50/50 cut of Diosa’s earnings, so it was likely that showing up at that escort service’s “office” of operations would just lead to another door slammed in her face. After all, it was technically the scene of the crime.

“I will say, though, just focus on Winston. Talk to his wife if you can - maybe see if you can get one of the girls at Diosa to spill on how often he’d been going there before all that went down with the guy he killed, but that’s it. You’re right - no one else in the MC is gonna talk to you, and you don’t need a quote from any of them anyway. I don’t want you putting yourself in a tight spot if you don’t need to. But if you talk to any of them about anything _not_ related to this assignment…I guess that’s up to you, isn’t it?”

Now, Dylan’s chest heaved heavily as her eyes pinned Nick to his desk. Nick’s hands shot up in the air in defense.

“Hey, I’m just stating the obvious here, okay? And before you ask, yes, I did disclose to Mark and Graham that you used to -”

“Nick,” Dylan bit out. “That was completely out of line. You had no business telling them that without talking to me first.”

He just threw his hand up in the air in frustration. “What do you want me to do here? You’re going over there to write this profile. There’s no question about it, Shaw. You have to do it, and we both know that. All I did was cover our asses ahead of time and get all the okays and check off all the boxes before you hop on that plane. You’re connected to _three_ of the highest-ranked members of that MC, whether you like it or not, and whether you wanna admit it or not. The chiefs _needed_ to know that you lived next-door to the subject of your profile, and they also really needed to know about your brother, and about you and -”

“Nick,” she growled. “I understand what you’re saying. I really do. You win, okay? I’m going. But I have to draw a line somewhere, and that’s where I’m drawing the line. And you’re right. I _am_ going to get on that plane and go to Charming because I just can’t let anyone else write about him and give them a chance to make him look like some kind of evil, bloodthirsty monster.”

“And if he _is_ an evil, bloodthirsty monster?”

Dylan blew out a heavy sigh. “No matter what the truth is, I’ll get it, and that’s what will go to print. You know that.”

“I know,” Nick allowed with a tight smile. “And I’m sorry if you feel pushed into this or like I’m not giving you a choice here, but well…I don’t think you really _have_ a choice.”

Nick, of all people, knew what had happened. He knew how her heart had been shattered, with its broken shards scattered all across the country from Charming to Boston. He knew that Charming was the last place on earth she ever wanted to step foot in again. It didn’t matter if her brother still lived there and had the kind of roots in that town that ran deeper than blood. She’d never wanted to go back, at least not since she was 17. But now, 13 years later, there was just no getting around it.

She had to go back.

If anyone was going to write about Opie, and give him the chance to tell his own story the way he wanted to, it was going to be her. They’d start with the fact that he’d murdered Marcus Alvarez in the middle of the afternoon when Alvarez was alone in a room with some escort at Diosa, and then they’d just have to work their way backwards. 

If he even wanted to talk to her.

But she’d try. Even if those old ghosts that trailed after her every single day decided to rear their ugly heads.

And she had questions… _lots_ of questions, just based on what had already been reported. Like, if Samcro and the Mayans were really still rivals, like all the news outlets implied, what was the Mayans’ president doing at a Samcro owned and operated establishment like that? And if they weren’t rivals, what reason did Opie even have to murder Alvarez in the first place? She could only imagine the upheaval both clubs were wading through right now, and the imminent and certainly inevitable war that had to be coming, if it wasn’t already underway.

On second thought, maybe going back to Charming right now really wasn’t the smartest idea. But she’d also navigated her entire journalism career on a healthy mix of both smarts _and_ instinct. And instinct told her there was a story here. A story that needed to be told. Even if it meant going back to a town that held so much pain and so much heartbreak.

“Look, Shaw,” Nick started again. “Any of these potential conflicts of interest are only gonna be an issue if you make them one. Mark and Graham are good with it, as long as everything that needs to be disclosed is disclosed, because you haven’t had any contact with those guys in years except for your brother, and your brother’s not the subject of this piece. You can do this, Shaw, because you’re the only one who can. You’re the best fit. You know the town. You’ve got history with that MC. You’ve got history with your subject. And you wanna know what else?”

Dylan pushed out a heavy sigh. She almost didn’t want to know, but he’d just tell her anyway. “What?”

Nick’s lips lifted at the corners in a sly grin. “You mentioned you didn’t think Winston would wanna talk to you. Well, you should know that after I talked to the chiefs upstairs this morning, I made a few calls, and was very surprised to learn that Winston’s actually been in holding for at least a week - Charming PD was able to keep his arrest under wraps, but when it hit the news, it caught on like wildfire. And wouldn’t you know it, all I had to do was drop your name with one of the nice officers I spoke with in Charming, and that got Winston’s attention pretty quickly. Seems like you’re not quite as forgotten over there as you think you are. Now, you still have to jump through all the right hoops, but he’s gonna put you on his visitation list, Shaw. All you gotta do is fill out the paperwork and you’re in.”

It was that last part that carried her all the way back to her desk in a daze. There was a mountain-high to-do list just starting to take shape in her mind, but for now, she just stared absentmindedly at her computer screen, which was now flooded with all the emails she’d missed in the time she’d just spent in her editor’s, and ex-husband’s, office.

She drummed her fingers over her mouth anxiously as her mind skipped over the laundry list of people she’d soon be face to face with when she went back to Charming, each face that flashed through her mind more painful than the last. Of course, there was one face she couldn’t linger on for too long. That was pain incarnate, and a heartbreak that had left an aching, jagged scar right across her chest.

Cash hadn’t told her much about him over the years, mainly because he knew how much it would wound her, but the little bit he’d told her was too much. Sooner or later, she’d have to reconcile that heartbreak because she’d have to look him in the eye, literally, and probably as soon as her plane landed.

Nobody in Charming, save for Cash, was going to be happy to see her after all this time. And nobody, especially _him,_ was going to be happy about her reason for coming back. She’d be surprised if they didn’t get their pitchforks ready to go as soon as they found out she was back and what she was doing there.

But if Opie wanted to talk to her, if he was willing to at least answer some of her questions and cooperate enough to give her some rope to write this profile in a way that was fair and balanced, then she needed to give him that chance. She owed him that much.

And maybe she owed it to the kids they’d all used to be. To their hopes and to their dreams and to their futures, that had been mostly crushed by life and circumstance. Those hopes and dreams and futures had been real to them then, when the whole world was a promise, not a disappointment. When they were just kids, messing around on the basketball court, driving around in Opie’s dad’s truck and getting high because they were all just so badass and cool back then, just living each day like it was both the best and the last they might ever have together.

She’d gotten everything she’d ever wanted, when she was just a stupid kid, with a hope and a dream that had actually become a reality, and that hope and that dream and that reality had been taken from her just as quickly.

Life had been sweet back then, until it wasn’t.

But, regardless of what had happened in between the time when they were 10, to where they all sat now, 20 years later, Opie still held a place in her history, even if that hardened, stoic man in the mugshot was lightyears away from the sweet boy who’d been her next-door neighbor and childhood friend. 

Somewhere along the way, everything had spiralled out of control. Had life really jaded them all so much that Opie was sitting in jail for murder and just the thought of having to go back to town nearly made her break out in hives? What had _happened_ to them? Where had everything gone so wrong?

It would be a miracle if anyone besides her subject was going to want to talk to her, or even see her, for that matter.

But _one_ person in Charming did still want to talk to her.

And one was enough.

* * *

 _1995  
_ _Ten Years Old_

Dylan hitched both hands on her tiny hips, surveying her new bedroom with scrutinizing dark eyes, and she huffed.

Pink.

The whole stupid thing was covered in _pink_ paint.

What was her dad thinking, giving her this stupid, _pink_ room? It was bad enough he’d made them leave Houston so fast they’d barely had time to even pack all their stuff, and now, he was forcing this room on her that looked like a Barbie had thrown up all over it.

 _It’s okay,_ he’d told them, _we just need a fresh start. That’s all this is, guys. We need a change of scenery. An adventure. How’s that sound?_

Well, it had sounded pretty dumb to her then, and it was looking _really_ dumb now.

“Hey, Dylan?” her brother’s voice called out to her from across the hall. “Did you hear that?”

She just shrugged, even though he couldn’t see her. Sometimes, he seemed to feel her reactions and her thoughts without her needing to say them out loud. There were plenty of times when they didn’t even need to talk to know what the other one was saying, and that always drove their dad nuts. Their mom usually thought it was pretty funny, but that didn’t matter now anyway.

“Did you hear that?” Cash called out again.

Dylan shrugged again, but this time, she stilled long enough to listen. It was pretty faint and muffled, but it was there. That familiar, comforting sound of a basketball bouncing up and down on cement. And then, there were voices mingled in between the sharp bouncing sounds too. Those were definitely boy voices, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Her dad, in his obvious stupidity and just general dumbness, bought them a house that didn’t have a basketball hoop. That was a horrific offense if she’d ever seen one, and it just made all this worse. If they had to just pack up and leave because he said they had to, then he could’ve at least found them a house that had a basketball hoop. Would that have really been so freaking hard?

Still, the bouncing hadn’t stopped. In fact, it just got louder, the closer she got to Cash’s window, and he flashed her an excited grin as he pointed to the two figures running and jumping around in the driveway next door.

“We can just go play with them!” Cash announced, like that was suddenly the answer to all her problems.

“Yeah, but we don’t know them.”

“So what?” Cash just shrugged, his eyes following the two boys out in the driveway. “I bet they’re in our grade. We might as well go over there and say hi. Maybe they’ll let us play with them. Two on two or something. Maybe we could just play horse if they don’t wanna do that - oh! Or maybe school?”

“I don’t wanna play horse with you again,” Dylan groused. “Not if you’re gonna be a big jerkface about it.”

Cash just batted a hand at her. Of course, he’d been a big jerkface about it because he’d gotten mad at her for beating him for, like, the millionth time in a row, but that was no big deal if he had new friends to play with now. A little flicker of jealousy flashed through her - he’d go over there and play with those boys, and then they’d be playing together all the time, and she’d have no one to play with then.

Fat chance of that happening.

“Okay, fine,” Dylan changed her tune pretty quickly as those thoughts churned through her. “Let’s go. But I wanna play two on two. _Not_ horse.”

“Why?” Cash nudged her. When she just scrunched up her nose at him, he lifted his eyebrows playfully.

“‘Cuz you’re a sore loser, and when you get an H, an O, and an R, all you do is yell, _whore_ ! It’s _really_ annoying, Cash.”

“Two on two it is. Let’s go!”

He waved her out of his bedroom, and they trekked down the hall, narrowly sidestepping around one of the movers just in time to miss a headboard swinging around the side of the stairs. Then they were out the door, yelling to no one in particular that they were going next door to play some basketball.

The driveway next door was just a few yards to their left, and right beyond their own driveway, and the closer they got, the clearer those two boys came into view. One of them, the bigger one with brown hair, was trying a jump shot from too far beyond the paint to really have a chance of making it, and just like Dylan predicted, he missed. Then the smaller boy with blonde hair, who looked to be about the same size as Dylan - which was really saying something because she was pretty small - jumped up real high, and grabbed the rebound, bringing it down with his elbows pointed out to keep the bigger boy from knocking it out of his hands.

Huh. He actually looked like he was pretty good.

By the time they crossed their yard and headed for this new, other driveway, Cash was already waving to them. The boys in the driveway stopped what they were doing, the basketball in mid-bounce as the smaller blonde snatched it up and twirled it around his index finger.

“Hey,” Cash called out to them with another wave. “We just moved in next door.”

The two boys just glanced at each other and then shrugged. 

“Hey,” the bigger one said as he lifted a hand, signalling for the smaller, blonde one to toss him the ball. “I’m Opie Winston,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “I live here.”

 _Opie,_ Dylan laughed to herself. _That was a weird name._

The smaller blonde boy lifted a hand to them. “Jax Teller. I live, like, two blocks away.”

“I’m Cash Shaw,” her brother pointed to himself with a grin, and then he gestured to her, “and this is my sister, Dylan. We’re twins. We’re gonna be in Mr. Sampson’s class at Fairview on Monday.”

Jax just shrugged, spinning the ball around on his index finger again. “Cool. That’s our class too. Where you guys from? You got a weird accent.”

“We used to live in Houston,” Dylan informed him, eyeing him carefully. “And _we_ don’t have weird accents. You should hear yourself from our end.”

That nabbed Jax’s attention pretty quickly, and he stopped spinning the ball around his finger to glance her way, as if he’d momentarily forgotten she was even standing there until she spoke. Even from a distance, the blue in his eyes reminded her of the time they’d driven all the way to Daytona Beach and she’d stood out on the farthest end of the boardwalk, and climbed up on the highest railing just so she could look down at the ocean. It’d been so deep and so blue, she hadn’t been able to see the bottom - and she’d wondered what was hiding down on the ocean floor, what was down there that she couldn’t know and couldn’t see.

His eyes were like that.

“Our dad is a doctor. He plays Operation on people in emergency rooms,” Cash told the boys easily, venturing a little bit closer to them as he spoke. “Our mom died. She had cancer.”

Dylan’s eyes flew to her brother in a flash, widening with horror that he would just share something like that with boys they didn’t even know. Besides, he _knew_ she didn’t like hearing that word - that _c-word._ But he’d said it anyway just to, what? Get those stupid boys to play basketball with them?

That was pretty dumb.

But then Jax and Opie just glanced at each other, both of them shifting a little uncomfortably against the cement at their feet. So, Dylan opened her big mouth:

“Can we play with you?”

Jax and Opie glanced at each other again, silently communicating whether they really wanted to invite the two new kids into the fold like this, and then, when Opie lifted a shoulder, Jax tossed Cash the ball, who caught it easily and dribbled it in between his legs just to show off.

“Sure, you can play,” Jax called out to them as he backpedalled toward the hoop, and then he gestured to Dylan, “but _you_ can’t.”

“Why?” she frowned.

Jax flashed her a wide, toothy grin. “‘Cuz you’re a girl. And girls can’t play basketball.”

Opie just made a clucking sound, shaking his head at his friend like he was a little embarrassed for him right now. Cash, for his part, glanced nervously at his sister.

And Dylan fumed.

“Oh, yeah?” she challenged, stepping onto the driveway defiantly. “And why’s that?”

“What?” Jax cocked an eyebrow at her and held his hands out to catch the ball that Cash tossed back to him. “Why girls can’t play basketball? Well, for starters, just because you’ve got a boy name doesn’t mean you can _hang_ with the boys. And besides, you’re too small. You’ll just get hurt and then you’ll cry and then you’ll get us in trouble. I just got my Nintendo back - I don’t wanna get grounded again anytime soon.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you egg Mr. Sampson’s car and get caught, you dummy,” Opie chided him, ribbing Jax in the side with his elbow.

“Yeah, well, Mr. Sampson is an asshole,” Jax retorted.

Dylan’s eyes widened - they weren’t supposed to say words like that. _Asshole_. They’d get grounded for sure if their dad heard them saying something like that. No wonder Jax got grounded. He probably never got to play Nintendo he was grounded so much.

Still, she had a point to prove, and she wasn’t letting up until she won.

“Our teacher?” Cash was asking now.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Opie filled him in, holding his hands out so Jax could pass him the ball. Opie took two dribbles, with long, practiced strides, and pulled an easy right hand lay-up. “He doesn’t like Jax, and Jax doesn’t like him, if you hadn’t figured that out yet.”

“He told me that Samcro was just a biker gang of criminals and delinquents and that I was just gonna be one of them when I grew up. So I egged his car.”

Dylan took a second to sift through all that. She didn’t know what Samcro was, or what a biker gang was, or what a delinquent was, but she knew what a _criminal_ was. Teachers shouldn’t tell their students they were going to grow up to be criminals. That wasn’t very fair, and she wasn’t so sure she was going to like their new teacher now. So, maybe she kinda got where Jax was coming from, even if egging the teacher’s car wouldn’t have been what she would’ve done. She probably would’ve just told her dad.

Still, she had a point to prove, and she wasn’t letting up until she won.

“Girls can _too_ play basketball,” Dylan threw out, holding her hands out for the ball. Opie hesitated for a second, and then tossed her the ball. She lifted the ball up to her index finger, spinning it around with a practiced flourish, lifting her eyebrows right at Jax in challenge. “See?”

Just to drive it home, she took a few dribbles, making sure to pass the ball in between her legs, just like Cash had done before. The only difference, of course, was that she could dribble in between her legs all the way up and down the court if she wanted to. Cash couldn’t do that, and he’d been practicing for weeks.

Then she picked up the ball and lobbed at Jax, who caught it with his eyes widening in surprise.

“And I’m not that small,” she informed him. “I’m bigger than _you_.”

Now, his ocean blue eyes narrowed as Opie snickered next to him, and he tossed it back to her with enough force to sting her hands a little bit. “No, you’re not.”

“Am too,” Dylan shot back, tossing the ball back to him with as much force as he’d given her. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? If you’re bigger than me, you should be able to beat me, right?”

Jax’s eyebrows lifted, his lips curling into a little snarl, and then he pushed the ball back to her so hard it would’ve hit her right in the face if she hadn’t been paying attention. “A’ight. Let’s play then. Me and Ope against you and Cash Money over there.”

Dylan just rolled her eyes at him, but she followed Cash deeper into the driveway and stepped up to the three-point line that looked like it’d been drawn on the cement with a Sharpie marker.

“Home team’s ball, Smalls,” Jax smirked at her, holding a hand out for the ball.

She rolled her eyes again, but threw him the ball. This was all just fine - let him think he had some kind of advantage because soon enough, he’d learn that he didn’t have an advantage at all. Being a boy didn’t mean anything on the basketball court anyway.

With her dark eyes locked right onto his blue ones, she stood in between Jax and the hoop, crouching down into a defense stance, arms outstretched and ready for anything he might try to pull on her. From the corner of her eye, she could see Cash positioning himself next to Opie to guard him, and then, the game was on.

The first play was an easy one. She just wanted to see what he would do, if he’d try some kinda fancy move on her right away or hold out on showing off until later in the game when he still thought he could beat her. Jax tossed the ball to Opie, who juked around Cash and sprinted out to the middle of the driveway, right in front of the hoop, with his hands open and waiting for the ball. Once he had the ball in between his hands, Opie dribbled once with a long stride, and lifted the ball easily, bouncing it off the backboard and into the net.

Opie caught the ball from the net, and tossed it to Cash, who knew from experience to just give the ball to Dylan right away. She took a few dribbles as Jax crouched down in front of her with his hands out to try to deflect a pass, then she faked a pass to Cash, making both Opie and Jax lunge for the fake pass at the same time in the same direction, and she flew down the length of the driveway on the opposite side, needing a lot more dribbles than Opie to get there, but she also got there a lot faster than he did. 

Then it was just an easy lay-up. No big deal. Easy as pie.

Jax huffed, holding his hands out for the ball, and Dylan shot him a wide grin as she passed it to him. From there, he learned pretty quickly, and with mounting frustration and annoyance, that she was just faster and better than he was. Every time he thought he was one step ahead, she caught up to him easily because she was quicker. Every time he thought he had an easy jump shot, she was right there, in his face, and making it that much harder. Every time he thought they were ahead, she dribbled right around him and tossed the ball through the net.

Now, Jax dribbled the ball into the corner of the driveway, making some room for Opie to cut across for an easy lay-up, and just as he was about to pass the ball, Dylan swatted it right out of his hands.

“Shit,” Jax muttered under his breath.

Dylan ignored that, and dribbled around him and back over to the three-point line to change the possession. She almost made it too, until a pair of hands pushed her from behind and sent her flying knees-first into the cement.

Her knees collided with the driveway, scraping across the surface until her skin burned and stung.

“Ow!” she cried out and grabbed her knee. “What was that for, you lil’ jerk!”

“I’m not little!” Jax shouted. He pointed a finger her way like that would somehow prove it, like that would somehow make it true, when it wasn’t. “And you can’t play with us anymore!”

“Why?” Dylan shot back, even as Cash bent down with his hand outstretched to help her up. “‘Cuz I’m better than you? ‘Cuz I’m _beating_ you?”

“You’re just a stupid girl!” Jax yelled again, and he didn’t waste a second when Cash pulled her back up to her feet, lunging forward to push her back down to the ground.

“Hey!” Cash called out. “What are you doing?”

Somehow through her red fury, Dylan thought she heard Opie protesting and trying to keep the peace, and maybe Cash was doing a little of that too, but none of that really mattered. Because she pushed herself back to her feet, wound up, and punched that little jerk right in the face.

Jax’s head reared back on impact, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his hands flew up to cover his nose. About two seconds later, two things happened all at once: blood poured out of Jax’s nose, and Jax burst into tears.

“Ow! My nose!” he cried as spurts of red liquid seeped from in between his fingers. “ _Ow_ ! What the _hell_ is your problem?”

Cash looked on in horror. Opie stood frozen to the cement, his hands still raised in the air to play referee. Dylan just stared back at Jax smugly, even though the scrape on her knee stung and burned.

“My problem is you being a lil’ _jerk_ ,” she sneered. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a _jerk_ , this wouldn’t have happened.”

Jax stared at her in disbelief, blood still pouring out of his nose and tears still streaming down his face, and then he took off, still crying, still bleeding, as he hopped onto his bike and pedalled out of the driveway and down the street. She glanced at Cash, who was still staring at her in shock, as she shook out her throbbing fist, and then his lips parted.

“I’m telling Dad!”

* * *

Her dad marched her right up to the Tellers’ house about 10 minutes later. He’d made Cash find out where Jax lived from Opie, and then after a brief, fiery lecture, he dragged her into the car so they could get there that much faster, leaving Cash behind with the movers, despite his protests that he wanted to come along too. Cash just wanted to come to see her get yelled at some more, but that was fine. 

She’d find a way to get back at him. It was only a matter of time.

“Now, Dylan, you’re going to be on your best behavior, right?” her dad told her sternly as he hit the doorbell.

“Yes,” she mumbled under her breath.

“And you’re going to be sincere?”

Dylan pushed out a heavy sigh. “I guess.”

About two seconds later, the door flew open to reveal one of the prettiest women Dylan had ever seen. The woman had long dark hair with light streaks in it, and she was wearing a really tight T-shirt with a motorcycle on it, but she was really, really pretty. 

“Yeah?” the woman exhaled, her dark eyes flickering between them. “Can I help you?”

Dylan’s dad stepped closer to the front door, with one hand on Dylan’s shoulder and the other hand extending toward the woman. “Hi there. I’m Carter Shaw, and this is my daughter, Dylan. We just moved in today - right next door to Opie Winston, and -”

“Oh, right,” the woman nodded with a laugh, and then her eyes sliced down to Dylan with a little smile on her lips. “You must be the girl who punched my son.”

Dylan’s eyes dropped to her feet as she nodded. 

“And, we’re here because Dylan wanted to apologize to him for her behavior,” her dad looked to her pointedly, “Didn’t you, Dylan?”

She nodded again but still kept her eyes on her feet. The woman’s light laugh bounced in between them as she reached out to shake her dad’s hand.

“Gemma Teller, Jax’s mom,” the woman told him, gesturing with her head toward the front door. “Why don’t you two come in?”

Dylan gingerly followed her dad through the entryway and down the hall, careful to stay behind him and suddenly feeling like maybe she really had done something wrong. Her hand was still throbbing too, but her dad said she could ice her hand _after_ she apologized for punching someone in the face. They followed Gemma down the hallway and into a kitchen that was a little smaller than the one they had now, and it seemed like there were just motorcycles everywhere in this house. On the walls, on the kitchen table, on the clock, on the blanket she saw in their living room. She wondered if they had motorcycles on their dinner plates too.

Then she winced at what she saw in the kitchen. Jax was seated at the table, holding his head back with a bunch of bloodied, clumped up kleenexes pushed against his nose. A tall, older man was hunched over him, helping Jax keep his head propped back with a hand on his shoulder. The man turned his head, and Dylan was immediately struck by the man’s face. He had the exact same eyes as Jax, with an ocean’s worth of deep blue swimming around in them. And then his lips broke apart into a knowing smile, a smile that wasn’t that different from Jax’s either.

The man stepped forward with his hand outstretched to her dad as he tucked some long, dark hair behind his ear. “How’s it goin’? My name’s John.”

Her dad grinned goodnaturedly at Jax’s dad, and after introducing himself, he glanced down at her with a smile, “And this is Dylan. She’s here to see Jax.”

The same Jax, who up until now, stayed huddled behind his dad.

“Ah,” John grinned, holding out his hand to her too. “Nice to meet you, Dylan. That’s a very pretty name for a very pretty little girl.”

“Thanks,” Dylan told him shyly. She glanced at Jax, who was peeking around his dad’s side to get a look at her, and when he realized she was onto him, his eyes widened and he jumped behind his dad again.

Then, John glanced up at her dad. “Dylan, huh? Your favorite song ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ or ‘Like a Rolling Stone?’”

“‘Mr. Tambourine Man,’ actually,” her dad laughed. “She’s got a twin brother at home named Cash.”

John chuckled heartily with a nod and clapped her dad on the shoulder. “Dylan and Cash. I like that, brother.”

“Thanks,” her dad grinned, and then he tipped his chin to Dylan to prompt her. “What did you need to say, Dylan?”

She pushed out a heavy sigh, finally lifting her eyes up from the floor to find Jax watching her with solemn eyes, and those bloody kleenexes still pressed into his nose.

“I’m sorry,” Dylan mumbled.

Her dad leaned in playfully, cupping a hand around his ear. “What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

His eyes lifted up to the ceiling and then they dropped to her exasperatedly. “Say it to _him_.”

Dylan’s gaze flicked back up to Jax. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Then Jax’s face flashed with fresh anger as he leapt around his dad to point at her, “I didn’t cry!”

“Did too!” she shot back.

By now, her dad held up his hands to referee between them, trying to intervene the way Opie and Cash had about 15 minutes before, and he lifted his eyes up to the other two adults in the room with some amusement flickering across his face.

“Alright, Dylan,” he chided, gesturing back to Jax, who was tucked into his dad’s side again with his hands curled into tight fists at his thighs. “What else didn’t you mean to do?”

Dylan blew some dark hair out of her face, rolling her eyes at her dad, but still, she did as she was told. She’d already been grounded and had gotten her TV privileges taken away for a whole week, and she did _not_ want to make that worse.

“I shouldn’t have punched you,” she pushed out, and then she mumbled, “I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been such a jerk though.”

“Hey, now,” her dad murmured in warning. “Watch that mouth. Unless you want me to tack on another week with no TV?”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Well, when he put it like that…

But now, that had gotten John’s attention, and he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “How was my son bein’ a jerk to you, lil’ darlin’?”

She just shrugged, glancing back at Jax, whose eyes had widened the size of saucers. “He told me girls can’t play basketball, and then he pushed me,” she gestured to her knee, drawing John’s attention down to the angry red scrape on her kneecap, “and he said I can’t play with them anymore because I’m a stupid girl, but I think he really did it because I was beating him.”

John’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but then they pulled down into a tight frown just as quickly. He crouched down a little in front of her with his hands resting on his knees as he glanced up at Gemma, who was watching the whole thing with amusement flickering across her pretty face.

“So lemme get this straight,” John smirked. That also looked just like the smirk Jax had shot her on the driveway before, when he thought he was going to beat her. “You were playing against Jax in basketball, and you were _winning,”_ he paused there to cock an amused eyebrow at his son before turning his attention back to her, “and then Jax pushed you because you were winning and made you scrape up your little knee, and told you you couldn’t play with them anymore because you’re a girl, and _then_ you clocked him in the face?”

Dylan swallowed hard, not sure if she was in more trouble or less trouble right now, and then she nodded.

John shifted on his heel so he could lift an eyebrow at his son, “It sounds to me like Jax got exactly what he deserved.”

Jax just hung his head, his shoulders sagging with some new shame and humility that hadn’t been there before.

“Well,” her dad intervened lightly. “I think it’s safe to say Dylan didn’t exactly handle herself the right way either,” then he glanced at his daughter, “because why?”

“Because fighting isn’t the way to solve my problems,” Dylan mumbled under her breath, her eyes flicking back up to Jax when she heard him snicker behind his dad.

John promptly swatted him on the back of his blonde head and jabbed a finger at him. “Mind your own business, son. And now it’s your turn to apologize. That is not the way you treat a woman, Jackson. You never, _ever_ put your hands on a woman. _Ever._ I don’t care what she does or what she says or how bad she’s beating you in basketball. Do you understand me?”

Jax’s eyes dropped down the linoleum floor at his feet, and he muttered, “Yes.”

“And?” John lifted an eyebrow expectantly.

Jax shifted his gaze up to Dylan, and then jerked his eyes back down to the floor again. “I’m sorry I pushed you. I didn’t mean to hurt your knee.”

“Alright,” John nodded, his gaze lifting up to Gemma then. “That’s more like it. I never, _ever_ wanna hear somethin’ like that again. We clear, son?”

Jax swallowed hard, but nodded immediately. “We’re clear, Pop.”

“Good,” his dad nodded to him again with just a touch of a smile. “So, no Nintendo for a week.”

“What?” Jax’s mouth dropped open in horror. “That’s not fair! I just got it back! Come _on_!”

“Well,” John just lifted a shoulder at him. “You shoulda thought about that before you pushed this nice little girl over here.”

“She’s not that nice,” Jax grumbled under his breath.

John just huffed out a laugh, while Gemma shook her head at her son, but Dylan eyed him carefully, taking stock of the whole situation and their corresponding punishments. And then she had an idea. It was worth a shot - what was the worst that could happen? Their parents would just tack on another week of no TV and no Nintendo?

“Hey, Mr. Teller -”

“You can call me JT if ya want, lil’ darlin’,” he smiled down at her.

“Okay,” Dylan shrugged. “Well, I was _going_ to say that I don’t think Jax should get his Nintendo taken away.”

Now, John lifted an eyebrow her way as Jax’s eyes widened behind him in surprise. “Oh really? And why’s that?”

“Because he pushed me, and I punched him, so that makes us even. I think we both learned our lesson, didn’t we?”

She looked to Jax now for confirmation and crossed her fingers he would be smart enough to catch on to her game quick enough for them to both come out the winners in this.

“Yeah, we did,” Jax nodded, a little bit of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “We won’t do it again.”

John glanced between the two of them, and now it was his turn to take stock of the circumstances and how they’d shifted right out from under him. He glanced over his shoulder at Gemma in some kind of silent communication - the same kind her parents had used to do - and Gemma just shrugged.

“Alright,” John allowed with some amusement playing on his lips. “If you two agree,” and then he glanced at Dylan’s dad, “then I guess we have a deal.”

“Deal,” they both said in unison, sharing a sly grin.

“So, Dr. Shaw,” Jax started, more confidence flooding back into his voice when he glanced at his dad. “I don’t think Dylan should lose TV for a week then either. I mean, we apologized, right? We’re not gonna do it again. And I pushed her first, so she was just defending herself anyway. I deserved to get clocked in the face for the way I treated her.”

Her dad took his turn appraising the situation now, tilting his head to the side as he regarded his daughter carefully before shifting his focus to the boy who’d pushed his daughter down and belittled her in front of her brother and his friend. But he was just a stupid boy anyway, and sooner or later, stupid boys learned their lessons too.

“Oh, alright,” her dad finally allowed. “I suppose you two kids worked it out, and we should just leave it at that, huh?”

Jax grinned brightly. “I think that sounds about right. It won’t happen again, Dr. Shaw. I swear.”

Her dad wagged a finger at him. “It better not. I don’t want to hear about anymore fighting between the two of you either. You two are gonna be at the same school on Monday, so y’all have to find a way to get along now.”

“Yes, sir,” Jax nodded with a solemn smile.

With that officially resolved, the adults turned their attention back to each other as her dad asked John about the motorcycle he saw parked in the Tellers’ driveway. After about a minute of sitting through boring adult talk, Jax gestured with his head toward another hallway on the other side of the house.

“You wanna go play Nintendo?” he whispered to her.

She just shrugged, following him out of the kitchen and down the hall, pausing long enough so he could make a pitstop at the freezer to grab two ice packs, and then stopped in front of a door with a big white and orange Harley-Davidson sticker stuck right in the middle of it.

“This is my room,” Jax nodded to the door a little sheepishly. When he noticed her taking stock of all the doors in the hallway, he gestured toward the one across the hall from where they stood. “That was my brother Tommy’s room. We don’t go in there though.”

“Oh, okay.”

She didn’t really know what else to say. Tommy was obviously in the same place as her mom, if people even went to a place when they died, and sometimes it was better not to talk about it.

So, it was just better, too, when Jax pushed the door open to his bedroom and gestured for her to walk through the door, still holding some kleenex to his nose. His room definitely wasn’t any cleaner than Cash’s room ever was, with T-shirts and shorts strewn all over the place - which he kicked out of their way as they moved closer to the TV on the other end of the wall. There was a long American flag hanging right behind the TV, and another black flag on the opposite wall, with a scary-looking grim reaper on it, and the words _Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original_ wrapped around it.

“What’s that?” Dylan asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at that black flag.

Jax’s eyebrows lifted at her question as he glanced at the flag behind her, but then he also seemed to remember that she was new here in town, and probably didn’t even know where her school was, let alone what that flag meant.

“That’s my dad’s club,” he informed her with a bright smile. The pride in his voice was unmistakable too, like just saying the words out loud sent a rush through him. “He’s the president. Ope’s dad is his VP.”

Dylan was just about to ask what kind of club it was, but then she remembered what he’d said before about egging his teacher’s car. That must be Samcro, the biker gang of criminals and delinquents. And now all those motorcycles around the Teller house made sense.

“Someday,” Jax went on, that pride in his voice now on full display. “ _I’m_ gonna be president, and Ope’s gonna be _my_ VP. Just you wait, Smalls.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed at his second use of that nickname, and she decided she didn’t particularly care for it either. Sure, she _was_ small for her age. A lot smaller than all the other girls on her basketball team in Houston, that was for sure. But she liked to think she made up for it in other ways too.

“I’m not that small,” she tossed out, hitching a hand on her tiny hip. “And I _am_ just as tall as you, ya know.”

Jax just scoffed at that, cocking an eyebrow at her as he tucked some of his chin-length blonde hair behind an ear. Then he stepped right up to her so they were eye to eye, lifting a hand to the top of his head, and then moving it out between them until the side of his hand skimmed right over the top of her head.

“Nope,” he clucked. “I got at least an inch on you, Smalls.”

“Maybe a half an inch.”

His lips slipped to the side in a cocky smirk. “Okay, fine. _Maybe a_ half an inch.”

Dylan just rolled her eyes to the ceiling again. “Are we gonna play Nintendo or what? My clothes are going outta style over here.”

His gaze swept over her then, as if he’d just noticed the black Nike basketball shorts she was wearing, and the Michael Jordan T-shirt that went along with it, and his gaze lifted right up to her hair, making her subconsciously tug on her short, dark ponytail.

“Pretty sure Nike’s never gonna go outta style, Smalls.”

“Whatever you say, _Jackson_ ,” she sassed back, adding the icing on the cake by sticking her tongue out at him.

He eyed her carefully, his own tongue darting out to his bottom lip to draw it underneath his teeth. And then, a moment later, he gestured with his head toward the TV. They settled on the carpet, with their backs to his bed, as Jax turned on his TV and switched on his Nintendo before passing her one of the controllers and then one of the ice packs.

“It’s cool you have a TV in your room,” Dylan told him, pressing the ice into her throbbing knuckles. “My dad won’t let me get one.”

Jax just shrugged as he toggled through a few screens to get them to the level he was on in Super Mario Brothers. “Yeah, I guess. I think my parents just got me a TV so I can turn something noisy on in my room so I can’t hear them as much whenever they fight.”

“Oh.”

Again, Dylan really didn’t know what to say. So, she just shifted her focus on the game - it had been a little while since she’d played this. They didn’t have Nintendo at their house, and instead had to depend on some of the neighborhood kids back in Houston, just like right now, to get their gaming fix in.

When she shouted out in victory after beating a level, she turned her head to find Jax observing her from a careful distance away.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” Jax shrugged. “Hey, next time we play ball at Ope’s, can I be on your team?”

She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Why?”

“‘Cuz you’re the best player,” he just shrugged again. “Seems like the smart thing to do.”

“Hmm,” Dylan mused, regarding him with a sly grin. “I thought girls couldn’t play basketball?”

Jax didn’t respond, choosing instead to turn his attention back to the game, where he proceeded to lose yet another level, leaving Dylan to pick up his slack so they could finally advance to the next level. And when she caught him looking at her _again_ , she huffed in frustration.

“ _What_?”

Jax’s eyes widened when he realized he’d been caught, but he recovered quickly, lifting a nonchalant shoulder like this was all really no big deal. “I was just thinkin’ that you kinda remind me of a china doll.”

Dylan’s forehead furrowed into a deep frown. “Is that…bad?”

His deep blue eyes seemed to look right through her, seeing everything all at once, _knowing_ her all at once, and she found herself staring right back. “No. It’s not bad. Maybe you’re not _exactly_ like a china doll. I mean, you didn’t break when I pushed you, right? I think you just _look_ like one though.”

“Huh,” Dylan was still frowning back at him. 

She still wasn’t convinced this was actually a good thing. At least he wasn’t comparing her to a Barbie. And at least china dolls were mostly pretty and dainty and…her thoughts trailed off right there, not really wanting to delve any further into china dolls. So, she shifted her focus back to Super Mario Brothers, balancing the controller as best as she could between the ice pack and her aching knuckles.

Finally, Jax tossed his controller on the ground with a defeated sigh. He’d just died again, losing the level again after about the fifth try, and once again, he’d demonstrated just how sore a loser he was.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Dylan murmured to him as he pushed off the carpet and moved toward the TV to switch off the game console. “So you suck at Super Mario and basketball. There’s gotta be _something_ you’re good at, right?”

Jax turned his head to her, lifting his eyebrows in exasperation with his hands still on his hips. “I’m good at board games. What’s your favorite game? I bet you two Snickers bars I can beat you at it.”

She just huffed out a laugh, pushing up to her feet to meet his challenge. “I like Snickers. I wouldn’t mind having a couple today.”

“Well, then,” he smirked, stretching his arms out in front of him with his hands laced together to crack his knuckles. “Your favorite game? What is it?”

That was an easy answer. “Clue.”

His shoulders sagged again. “We don’t have Clue here. How ‘bout Monopoly? I’m pretty good at that one, and we got the Harley-Davidson version too. It’s pretty sweet.”

“Hmm,” Dylan scrunched her nose up in thought. “Nope. I wanna play Clue. We have it at my house and I know which box it’s in. You wanna come over and play it?”

Jax just shrugged, tossing his bloodied kleenexes in a trash can next to his TV stand. “Sure.”

“Hey, you know what? We could watch a movie after that if you wanted. I know where the box of all our movies is too.”

He took a moment to mull that over, as if he was trying to decide just how much time he really wanted to spend with her today. “You got _Jaws_ in that box?”

If he was testing her somehow, she was about to pass that test with flying colors.

“I sure do,” Dylan grinned. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Now, a bright, albeit pretty cocky, smirk slipped across his face. “They’re in the _yahd -”_

She joined in, immediately catching his reference with a smile. “Not too _fah_ from the _cah_.”

They laughed together just long enough to solidify the rest of the day’s plans. Then, in a flash, they were out of the room and down the hallway, as Jax yelled to the adults still congregating in the kitchen, “Ma, Pop, I’m goin’ to Smalls’ house to play Clue and watch _Jaws_.”

They didn’t wait to hear any of the adults’ responses, choosing instead to push out the front door of the Tellers’ house and sprint down the lawn until Jax skidded to a stop on the sidewalk. He turned to her with an evil glint in his ocean blue eyes, and gestured with his head toward the street.

“Wanna race?”

Dylan rolled her eyes even as she strode right over to him, where he’d gotten into a runner’s stance on the side of the street. “Like you could beat me, _Jackson_.”

“Only one way to find out, _doll_.”

“Fine,” she snarked. “Ready, set -”

Jax took off like a bat out of hell, laughing his head off as he took full advantage of his cheat, sprinting down the street with the kind of speed that would’ve been impressive if she wasn’t faster and quicker and smarter.

His head start was just that.

She still won.


	2. Chapter Two

_1997  
Twelve Years Old_

_Hey Jude, don't be afraid  
_ _You were made to go out and get her  
_ _The minute you let her under your skin  
_ _Then you begin to make it better  
_ _-Lennon/McCartney_

Jax rolled over in his bed and yanked the pillow around his ear, muffling the heated voices coming from down the hallway. It worked a little bit, but not enough to actually be able to sleep. This had been going on for at least an hour now - ever since his dad had come home from the clubhouse tonight, they'd been at each other's throats. This time, his mom was really worked up, and his dad didn't seem to be making it any better.

"I don't give a shit what you do on a run," Gemma's hushed, incensed voice spilled out from underneath his bedroom door. "You know that, John. But I _do_ care what you do in that clubhouse when I'm not around. This shit can't keep happening. Not like that, where _everyone_ can see."

"Gem, I'm sorry that -"

"Oh, you're sorry? You're sorry you were getting a fucking blow job right in the middle of the clubhouse, in the middle of the fucking day, and I just happened to show up and catch your ass red-handed? Is that why you're sorry or did I miss something when I yanked that goddamn croweater's dirty mouth off your dick?"

John pushed out a heavy sigh, and Jax could almost see his dad's reaction to that - he was probably yanking a hand through his long dark hair right now, eyes on the floor, trying his best to keep his voice down so Jax didn't hear them. Whatever they were doing obviously wasn't working.

"I didn't mean for you to see that, Gem."

"Is that supposed to be some kinda ol' lady consolation prize?" his mother sneered. "'Cuz if it is, I want my money back."

"You need to just calm the hell down," John shot back. "You know that girl didn't mean anything to me."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes," he growled. "It is. You're my wife and my ol' lady and the mother of my children. You mean everything to me, and that girl in the clubhouse today was just a distraction from all the shit we've been dealing with these last few years."

"So what if I ran out right now and found my own little distraction, huh? How would ya like that?"

"Go right ahead and see what happens, Gem. And I gotta say, you sure as hell didn't look too upset when I saw you talkin' to Clay right after all that went down."

"Oh, I see," Gemma replied, her voice deadly calm. " _You're_ the only one who gets to screw the pain away, right? _You're_ the only one who's allowed to do whatever you want whenever you want with whoever you want, right?"

"I told you, Gemma, that girl didn't mean anything to me. I just needed a little goddamn relief from all this, okay? I just needed someone to -"

"Don't give me that bullshit line. I'm not givin' you what you need at home - is that it? Go on, you can say it to my face. You've probably been sayin' it to everyone else's."

"I have _not_ been doing that."

"Well, John, all I know is that if I really _mean everything_ to you, you wouldn't be doin' this shit. You'd be here, at home with me and with Jax, putting the work in to keep this family together. Instead, you're spending all your time at the clubhouse, letting some goddamn _child_ wrap her lips around your dick!"

"Hey, now listen -"

"She looked like a _fucking child,_ John! And you did it right in front of everyone! Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me?"

There was a pause there, as if John was gathering his thoughts one by one, and setting them aside in his mind, all in one long line.

"Gemma," he sighed. "I know things haven't been right between us since we lost Tommy. But I love you. I do. And I love Jax - I love you both more than anything in the world, and I wanna do better. I'll _be_ better. But you gotta meet me halfway here. You gotta give me somethin' to wanna come home to."

A loud crash ricocheted off the walls, rattling his bedroom door, and Jax winced from the impact, rolling over onto his other side to push his face into his pillow.

"You sonuvabitch!"

And he'd heard just about enough. He had school tomorrow, for chrissakes. So, Jax pushed the covers aside, and slid out of bed, tiptoeing over to his closet to grab a pair of shoes, and then he moved over to his windowsill, pushing it up and putting one leg over, and then the other over the side.

This had become a pretty terrible routine lately - his parents seemed to start fighting pretty much the second his dad stepped foot in the house for the night, on the nights he actually did come home, and then Jax would brave it out for as long as he could until he just couldn't take it anymore. The longer this shit went on, the harder it became for him to look either of his parents in the eye, and he just was about ready to tell them both to go to hell.

All they cared about was themselves and how _they_ were feeling and what _they_ wanted. Nobody seemed to care too much about how he felt - and nobody bothered to ask _him_ how he felt about Tommy being gone either. He had to walk past that closed door every day, just like they did. He had to tiptoe around the subject every day, just like they did. He _missed_ Tommy so much it hurt every day, just like they did.

All they were doing was rubbing salt in an open, gaping wound, and that shit didn't make it any better.

At least he had somewhere he could go where it was quiet, and where no one fought or cheated on their wives. With that thought, he left the fighting and the cheating behind, and trekked the short distance to the house that had become his safe haven at night in the last year or so.

Because it was already past ten o'clock, he didn't want to take a chance, so he jogged around the side of the house, and knocked on her window. It took a little bit, and sometimes it took longer if she was already asleep when he came over, but she always opened her window. He'd told her a long time ago to always leave it locked, and never to leave it open for him. There were all kinds of creeps and weirdos in this world, and the last thing he wanted was for some creep or weirdo to slip through her window at night when she was sleeping all because she thought she needed to leave her window open for him.

He heard the telltale click on the lock at the top of her windowsill, and then the window pushed open.

"Hey," Dylan smiled at him from inside her room.

"'Sup, doll," he found himself grinning back, even though these were pretty shitty circumstances to be seeing his best friend. Still, seeing her, and getting away from what was happening in his own house right now, made him feel better. "Your dad still up?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You can come in through the front door. I'll go let you in."

He grinned at her again, even if he could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes. Jax was just grateful for some peace and some quiet, and if he was lucky, Dr. Shaw would let them use the computer in the basement for a little bit too. Dylan and Cash had just gotten The Oregon Trail for their birthday last week, and it was no Super Mario Brothers, but it would pass the time, and it would help him forget for a little while.

At least until it was time for him to go back to his own house for the night. Dr. Shaw usually let him stay until around midnight - there was one time his parents were fighting and screaming and throwing things so bad that Dr. Shaw had let him crash on the couch for the night.

Tonight wasn't as bad as that. It definitely wasn't _great,_ but Jax figured shit could always be worse. And it had definitely been worse.

He walked around the house again, stopping at the front door, and he only had to wait a few seconds before she pulled the door open, waving him in.

"Cash is passed out already," Dylan told him as he passed by her to walk inside the house, kicking off his shoes next to where her Michael Jordans sat underneath the bench by the door. "My dad's in the living room, though, if you wanna talk to him."

"Yeah, maybe in a minute," he sighed, following her down the hallway.

It was just easier at the Shaws' house. He'd tried going over to Ope's house one night when his parents were really going at it, but Piney had been on his case right away, wanting to know why he was there, and why he wasn't at home in his bed, and why he was crying. And then Piney had told his dad that Jax had been over there the night before, and the reason why, and that was the last time he tried going over to Ope's house.

The Shaws didn't care about club business, and they definitely didn't care about what was going on in the clubhouse either.

And more importantly, he knew Dr. Shaw would never tell either of his parents that he left the house when they fought. He had plenty of chances whenever Jax's parents had a barbecue or a party at their house, and Dr. Shaw had never said a word to them.

 _What happens in your house is none of my business,_ Dr. Shaw had told him once. _Just as long as no one's getting hurt and no one's hurting_ you.

Besides, he liked the quiet in the Shaw house. Piney and Mary weren't that much better than his own parents, and Jax had a feeling Ope was dealing with the same kinda shit he was at his house too.

"You hungry?" Dylan asked from over her shoulder.

Jax just shrugged. "Sure."

He'd never been one to turn down food, especially if Dylan was offering.

"PB and J?"

He just shrugged again. "Sounds good, Smalls."

Jax followed her into the kitchen and leaned up against the counter, smiling a little as she pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed a jar of jelly. She was dressed in a pair of baggy basketball shorts and an even baggier white Nike T-shirt, and her tiny frame wasn't really helping the clothes look any less baggy. She'd grown a little bit in this last year, but she was still the tiniest one on the girls' basketball team at school.

Not that it mattered. Dylan was still the best and the fastest one on the team and still the best player in their pick-up games in Opie's driveway too. She'd just scored 14 points at her game earlier that day, with six rebounds and four steals. Dylan didn't need to be tall, and Jax liked to think she used her size to her advantage because no one would look at her and think she was any kind of a threat, on the basketball court or anywhere else for that matter.

She was stealthy with cat-like reflexes that always seemed to catch her opponent off-guard. And whenever she scored, or got a rebound, or a steal, Jax always made sure to cheer as loud as he could so she could hear him in the stands.

On their way home from Dylan's game earlier today, Opie had joked that he forgot Dylan was a girl sometimes because she was so good at basketball. Cash and Gemma had laughed in the car, and Jax had laughed too, but he didn't really get it.

He'd never forgotten that Dylan was a girl.

Now, Dylan was eyeing him carefully, almost as if she could read his thoughts, as she spread some peanut butter on a slice of bread and plopped it on top of the one already covered in jelly. Then she pushed the plate at him with glimmering dark eyes.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked him in a quiet, careful voice.

Jax sucked a heavy breath, and then opted to take a big bite of his sandwich, working through his thoughts, and the question right on the tip of his tongue, before he felt like he had a good enough handle on all that to answer her.

"I wish they'd just get a divorce already," he mumbled through a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. "I'm sick of this shit."

Dylan nodded in solidarity, moving across the kitchen until she leaned up against the counter right next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, then she nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey, at least you got a PB and J out of it. I don't know about you, but I think I make the best PB and J in the whole county."

"Screw the county," Jax huffed out a laugh. "The whole _state_ , Smalls."

"I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

He flashed her a wide smile, making sure to ooze plenty of chewed up sandwich between his teeth. Dylan scrunched up her nose, grimacing at the gross display, but she still laughed at him. That was good enough.

And then he just couldn't keep it in anymore. It _was_ easier to talk to someone, and tell them what he'd heard because not talking about it just meant he'd have to keep it bottled up, and all that did was make him angry. All that did was make him want to hit something.

"My dad was with a croweater in front of the whole clubhouse today," he murmured, his eyes dropping to the plate on the counter so he didn't have to see Dylan's reaction. "My mom caught 'em and they've been screaming about it ever since he got home, like, an hour ago."

"You mean, like…" Dylan tilted her head to the side in thought. "Where everyone could _see_?"

Jax swallowed tightly as that question hit him hard. His dad had really screwed up this time, and if he was Gemma, he wasn't so sure he'd forgive JT either. At least not for a long time. It was bad enough that his dad was cheating in the first place, but then to do it front of the whole clubhouse, where everyone knew, where everyone could _see_ \- like Dylan had said - and…his heart clenched and twisted at the thought of his mother walking in the clubhouse today, and finding her husband getting a BJ from some stupid croweater right in front of everyone, like he just didn't care, like he _wanted_ her to see it.

Now, just thinking about it like that, he had half a mind to finish his sandwich, head back home, and punch his dad right in the face.

At least then JT would get what he deserved, and maybe he'd finally stop messing around on Gemma and actually be home for once.

That wasn't how husbands should treat their wives. And that wasn't how club presidents should treat their old ladies either.

"What was he doing?" Dylan was asking now.

Jax considered his options, and after a quick glance in the living room to find Dr. Shaw still lounging on the couch, he leaned in and whispered it in Dylan's ear. Her eyes widened in shock a moment later just as her mouth dropped open, and then her nose crinkled up again.

" _Ew_ ," she grimaced. "That's gross."

"I know, right?" Jax laughed. "But whatever. That's what he was doing, and Gemma was really pissed about it. All I know is that when _I_ get married and have kids someday, I'm not gonna do that kinda stuff. I mean, if it makes my mom that mad and if it makes them fight _that_ much, I don't get why he keeps doing it and keeps hurting her feelings like that."

And there was something else too. Something he'd been thinking about for awhile now, and he just didn't know quite how to put it in the right words to finally get an answer.

"I don't know either, Jax," Dylan shrugged with a sympathetic smile. "I wish I did though."

His eyes flicked over to the living room again to make sure Dr. Shaw wasn't paying any attention, and then he leaned in closer to Dylan, momentarily distracted by the cucumber and watermelon scent he found on her neck. She must've taken a bath in that lotion she got with Gemma at the mall last week, but he didn't really mind it. He kinda liked the way it smelled on her.

"Hey, doll, can I ask you a question?"

Dylan's lips lifted in a small smile, and he felt his heart clench a little again. "Sure, Jackson."

"Do you think my dad is doing all that stuff at the clubhouse, and making my mom mad like that, because he doesn't love her anymore?"

Now, Dylan's lips dipped into a frown, and her forehead crinkled in thought. She was taking this question seriously, just like he knew she would, and he knew she'd be honest with him too. Her eyes drifted over to the living room, checking to make sure her dad wasn't listening in just like he'd done a few moments before, and then she pushed out a heavy sigh.

"I don't know," she lifted a shoulder. "I mean, I think you're kinda supposed to do that stuff with someone you love, right? Do you think he loves the girl he was doing that with at the clubhouse too?"

"No," Jax shook his head tersely. "There's no way. He told my mom that girl didn't mean anything."

"Hmm," Dylan hummed in thought. Her lips pulled to the side as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Well, I guess people do that stuff with people they _don't_ love too, but I don't know, Jax…it doesn't seem right to be doing that with someone else when you're married. Or if you have a girlfriend or something like that. I guess, it just seems like, if you really love your wife or your girlfriend or whatever, you wouldn't wanna hurt their feelings. And if you don't care about hurting their feelings, then they probably shouldn't be your wife or your girlfriend or whatever, right?"

Jax swallowed hard, his eyes dropping down to his feet. "Right."

She hadn't told him anything he didn't already know. Maybe he'd just been sitting on that question for so long because he wasn't ready for that confirmation yet. But he knew Dylan would tell him the truth, and it just sucked that the truth was basically what he'd already figured.

If his dad really loved his mom the way he said he did, he wouldn't be doing something that would hurt her. And he definitely wouldn't be doing it where everyone could see.

"I think maybe he wanted to get caught," Jax offered in a quiet voice. "Like he just wanted her attention or somethin'. Isn't that stupid?"

"Yeah," Dylan smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's stupid."

And he had a pretty good feeling Gemma was well aware that he heard all their fights. Like she purposely added certain details and mentioned certain things to make sure Jax knew exactly what John was doing at the clubhouse when they weren't there.

 _You know that's got nothing to do with you,_ Dr. Shaw had told him a few months ago. _At least not really. That's about your parents and their relationship. That's got nothing to do with how they feel about you._

But then he straightened up when Dr. Shaw strode into the kitchen, shifting on the counter to put a little more distance between him and Dylan.

"Hey, Jax," Dr. Shaw waved to him with a tired smile as he put an empty dish into the sink. "You guys gonna head down to the basement?"

Now, Jax's eyes flashed excitedly. "Can we play on the computer, Dr. Shaw?"

"Sure," he laughed even as Dylan rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Just keep the volume down on that game. I'm on call tomorrow, so I need to try to get some sleep."

"Sure thing, Dr. Shaw!"

Then he flew out of the kitchen, with Dylan right on his heels, and they skidded down the stairs, as Jax playfully elbowed his way around Dylan to get to the computer chair first.

"Hey, no fair!" Dylan pouted, but when he just scooted to the edge of the chair, patting the empty side with a sly grin, she shrugged and plopped down next to him.

It wasn't like she needed that much room on the chair anyway.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

"Just hold still one more minute," Gemma told her with a laugh, even as Dylan squirmed on the chair.

This was taking forever, and all she wanted to do was go play in the driveway with the boys. They were messing around with Jax's new bike, each one taking a turn going up and around the makeshift obstacle course they'd set up in the Tellers' front yard. John had even put a Samcro flag on the back of the bike so they could pretend they were part of the club for real…and she was _missing_ it.

Dylan blew out a heavy sigh, which only made Gemma chuckle above her, but at least that also seemed to make Gemma move the scissors a little faster. All she wanted was to be able to see better on the basketball court, and her bangs were too long and getting in her way, so Gemma had sat her down for her monthly trim at the _worst_ possible time.

Ugh. She just wanted to go outside, and Gemma was making this really, really difficult right now.

Gemma's head turned at the TV, where Bo and Hope were kissing and making weird faces at each other. Bo and Hope had just gotten back together, even after Bo found out that he was really Chelsea Benson's dad and that her mom was that awful lady, Billie, and normally, Dylan would be right on the edge of her seat next to Gemma, eating popcorn and anxiously sitting through the episode to see what was going to happen.

But today, _Days of Our Lives_ could wait.

She had to get _outside._ Every second that went by, she was missing things, and she hated being left out, hated being the only girl, and hated that she couldn't really be a member of the club. It was stupid that only boys could be part of the club - girls could ride motorcycles too. She'd even seen a girl riding a motorcycle all by herself on a TV commercial the day before, so Dylan didn't really get what the big deal was.

Gemma put the scissors down so she could fast-forward through a commercial - she taped each episode every day on their VCR so they could watch it together after Gemma picked them all up from school - and Dylan huffed in frustration.

"Oh, settle down," Gemma chided her with another laugh. "You're almost done, honey, and then you can go play with the boys."

Then she hit play to get the episode going again, shaking her head at the screen now as John and Marlena walked across the docks, hand in hand and talking about how they were going to run away from Stefano.

"Doesn't Marlena look pretty today?" Gemma told her, gesturing with her head toward the TV on the opposite wall, and then she squinted at the screen again. "Well, I take that back. She's wearing about five pounds of makeup today. She'd be a lot prettier without all that, that's for sure."

That got Dylan's attention, and she observed the actress on the screen for a few moments, until she glanced up at Gemma with a cocked eyebrow. " _You_ wear makeup though."

"That's right," Gemma laughed. "I guess I tend to wear a lot too, but not quite _that_ much."

Dylan's eyes drifted out to the window in the living room, giving her a clear view of the three boys in the front yard, and her gaze dropped right on her blonde best friend, who was riding around on that new bike like he'd just been crowned king of the block.

"Do you think _I_ need to wear makeup, Gemma?" she asked with some hesitation, her eyes darting back out to the front yard again.

Gemma's dark eyes followed Dylan's gaze out to the front yard, and then she shifted her focus back on Dylan again, this time with a soft smile as she reached out to put a hand on Dylan's cheek. "Honey, you're beautiful just the way you are - makeup or no makeup. You know that, right?"

"I guess," Dylan just shrugged. "I think you're beautiful just the way you are too. So why do you wear makeup then?"

Gemma smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I don't know…I guess it just makes me feel pretty sometimes."

"Oh, okay."

She could understand that.

Sometimes, she looked at some of the other girls in her class, like Analise Taylor, who was _so_ pretty and _so_ tall and _so_ blonde, and shealways wore this lip gloss that was more sparkly than the vanilla LipSmackers Dylan used. She was pretty sure Analise wore mascara on her eyelashes too, and sometimes, Dylan saw her watching Jax when they were in class. Analise passed him notes sometimes too, and whenever Jax dropped a note back on her desk with a smirk, Analise would always giggle like Jax was the funniest boy in their class.

Jax was funny, sure, but he wasn't _that_ funny. And Dylan always felt her heart pound a little bit when she saw Analise passing Jax notes in class, and then her heart pounded even harder when she saw him pass a note back to her. One time, she'd asked him what the note said, but Jax just shrugged and told her nothing Analise said was that important anyway. But she'd still wanted to know, and she still did.

"Now, that bein' said," Gemma went on with a knowing smile. "I don't see why you couldn't wear a little powder if you wanted, maybe a little bit of mascara too, but only if you _want_ to. And when you decide that's somethin' you want, and if your dad says it's okay, you just let me know and we'll go shopping, okay?"

Dylan smiled, glancing down at her big, baggy basketball T-shirt, and she wondered if maybe wearing some powder and a little bit of mascara would make her feel prettier. And then she thought about the jean skirt Analise had been wearing at school today, and the way Jax had stared at her bare legs like that was the only thing he could see. Maybe if she didn't steal her brother's clothes, and sometimes she grabbed a Samcro shirt or two from Jax's room when he wasn't looking - maybe then she'd feel more like a _girl_ anyway. She wanted to feel like a girl, and she wanted to feel pretty, and she wanted to _look_ pretty too.

"Do you think…" Dylan trailed off, her eyes drifting back out to the front yard again. "Do you think we could go shopping for clothes too?"

Gemma's lips curved up into a warm smile as she brushed some stray hair back behind Dylan's ear. "Sure, honey. I'd like that."

With that, Gemma picked the scissors back up, and finished trimming Dylan's bangs, taking an extra moment or two to make sure all the ends were smooth and straight, and then she let Dylan up from her chair. Dylan shot up as soon as Gemma set the scissors down, making a beeline for the front door, with Gemma trailing behind her to keep an eye on the shenanigans happening in her front yard.

"Hey, it's my turn now!" Dylan yelled out, running right in front of Jax. He had to skid to a stop so he didn't ram right into her, and he huffed at her in frustration.

"Nice going, Smalls," he smirked. "I coulda hit ya. You would've bounced right off the handlebars like a ping pong ball."

Dylan just stuck her tongue out at him. "Shut up, ya lil' jerk. It's my turn."

"Says who?" Jax cocked an eyebrow at her in challenge, his hands fisting around the handlebars a little tighter to prove his point. "Besides, Smalls, it's not like it's gonna do ya any good. You can't be a member of the club anyway, and you can't be a croweater either."

"Yeah!" Cash chimed in from off to the side. "Girls with asses don't get patches!"

Dylan hitched her hands on her hips, and her head turned ever so slightly when she heard Gemma chuckle from the porch. "That doesn't make any sense, Cash."

Her twin shot her a toothy, goofy grin. "Doesn't have to. You still can't be part of the club."

Her eyes flicked to Opie, who at 12, had grown like a weed and now stood nearly a foot taller than all of them combined. Opie just shrugged easily, lifting his eyebrows at her like there was nothing he could do to help her.

"Y'all think you're pretty smart, huh? Well, I think y'all are a buncha big, dumb babies. How d'ya like that?"

"Hey, I know what," Jax told her now, wagging a finger at her and cocking his head to the side as those ocean blue eyes glittered slyly. "When I patch in, you can be my ol' lady. How does that sound? That's only six years from now anyway and then you can still sorta be with the club too, 'cuz you'll be with me, and _I'll_ be in the club."

"Hey!" Cash whined, lobbing a handful of dirt at Jax. "Gross, dude. That's my sister."

Jax just wiped the dirt off his shoulder and shrugged, glancing over the top of Dylan's head at his mother, and then he just shrugged again. "Well, she can't be _your_ ol' lady 'cuz she's your sister. And she can't be Ope's ol' lady either."

"Why not?" Opie called out from behind Jax.

"'Cuz she just _can't_ ," Jax shot back, his voice a little tighter than before. "That's why."

"Smalls can be my ol' lady if she wants. I'm pretty sure that's her choice, bro."

Dylan just rolled her eyes to the sky, hands still hitched on her tiny hips, and she shook her head as the two boys stared each other down. Well, they'd outdone themselves this time because this was _pretty_ stupid. In fact, it was probably one of the stupidest arguments she'd ever heard.

"Do any of you actually _know_ what that means?" Gemma called out from the porch, and all four kids turned to face her. "You know, what being an ol' lady really means?"

"Sure," Opie called back. "It's like you're JT's ol' lady and my mom is my dad's ol' lady. Like that."

"Right," Gemma chuckled. "But do you know what that means?"

She paused there, gauging whether any of them actually had any real idea what they were talking about, which they obviously didn't, so she took a few steps off the porch to venture a little closer to enlighten them.

"So, when a member of the club takes an old lady, he's telling all the other members, and any one else for that matter, that the girl is _his_ , and no one else gets to have her. It's sorta like he's claiming her as his own, like a wife, but in a way that any MC would recognize. That make more sense?"

Dylan's eyebrows lifted at the word _wife_ , and she shifted on her heel, biting down on her bottom lip as she dared a glance at Jax. His forehead was furrowed, like he was sifting through all that information, and deciding what applied to this particular situation, and what didn't. While she'd definitely heard the term before, and heard it in reference to Gemma and Opie's mom, Mary, plenty of times, she hadn't really thought about what it meant before. It sounded serious. Like, more serious than just a girlfriend. Like, if Jax really made her his old lady when he patched in, he'd be telling everyone else in the club and anyone else, like Gemma had said, like she was _his_ , like his _wife_ , at least in terms of the club, and she knew what it meant to be someone's wife. That meant they'd be married, at least in the club.

Would Jax still want to do that, now that he knew what it really meant?

"And then," Gemma moved a little bit closer, gesturing to the intricate crow tattoo stretching across the left side of her chest and right over her heart. "When it's official, Samcro old ladies get their old man's crow, like I've got John's, and Mary has Piney's. That way, if anyone's got any questions about whether I'm someone's old lady, all I have to do is flash them John's crow, and then they know not to mess with me, and they know exactly whose old lady I am. It's a way to protect me, and it also lets everyone know that it's official too. You don't get a tattoo unless it's permanent, right?"

Dylan's eyebrows lifted again at that. She hadn't realized being an old lady involved _all_ of that…she'd seen Gemma's crow tattoo plenty of times too, but she'd never realized it meant she was an old lady and that it protected her. But what did it protect her from? Other clubs? Other guys? If that was the case, that sorta made sense. She didn't want Gemma to be in any kind of danger. And if _she_ was an old lady, she didn't want to be in any kind of danger either.

Then her eyes flicked to Jax again, and found him just like he was before Gemma had explained her crow tattoo, brow furrowed and deep in thought.

"Does that make sense now?" Gemma asked, her lips curving into a little smirk as she set her eyes on her son, who still stood rooted to the cement under his feet on the driveway, with his hands clutching the handlebars on his new bike so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Opie called out to her, and Cash followed suit a moment later. "I'm gonna get an ol' lady someday for sure."

"Yeah, me too," Cash chimed in.

Dylan's gaze flew to Jax again, and now, he was staring at her intently, with a clear focus and clear blue eyes that made her heart pound in her chest.

"Yeah," Jax murmured. "Me too."

* * *

_One Week Later_

Row after row of motorcycles filled the cemetery as far as the eye could see. Some of the riders were from other charters, some of the riders were from other clubs - but they'd all shown up today to honor the fallen president of Samcro's mother charter. There was no space left in the cemetery, no inch that wasn't taken up by a Harley or a mourner, or a mourner on a Harley.

It was the best send-off his dad could've gotten. Fit for a king, with the honor of a president.

Jax turned his head to take it all in behind him. All the leather, all the American flags, all the solemn tears, even on the faces of grown, bearded men. Today was the kind of day that made him proud to be a Teller, that made him proud to have a legacy waiting for him in the club. A legacy that had just gotten more sacred today.

This was his legacy. His future. His crown for the taking, when it was time, and when he was ready.

His eyes turned to the front again, and settled on the gleaming black casket just beyond his reach. His little brother's gravestone was just to the left, and Jax nodded to himself. Yeah, they were together again, somewhere, wherever that was - at least his dad and Tommy were together, if they couldn't be here with him.

Someday, he'd join them. But today was not that day.

At the end, it wasn't the semi that had taken John Teller. That semi dragged him nearly 180 yards down the interstate, and he'd still survived. He'd also managed to survive when he got to the hospital because Dr. Shaw had been on call, and Dr. Shaw had performed an emergency surgery that had saved his life that day.

But after 48 hours, the internal damage was just too severe, and the internal bleeding was just too profuse to be stopped. And so, John had slipped away, with Jax and Gemma huddled around his hospital bed at St. Thomas, just a few floors below the room where Tommy had died three years earlier.

And when Jax stood in that room alone with what was left of his father, and long after Clay had pulled a sobbing and inconsolable Gemma out of the hospital room, he hadn't felt what he thought he would.

All the doctors at St. Thomas, Dr. Shaw included, had told them John probably wouldn't make it through the night because his injuries were just too devastating for a human body to handle. He'd survived 48 hours instead, and in that time, Jax had thought he was ready, and for the first time since he'd lost his little brother, he'd found himself in the hospital's chapel, sitting in a pew, and praying to God, or whoever would listen, to take away his father's suffering.

So when that prayer was finally answered, he'd thought he would feel relieved. Maybe even happy that his dad could just go in peace and find some relief from the pain his body was going through.

Instead, he just got mad.

Mad at the road. Mad at his dad's bike. Mad at God. Mad at fate. And finally, mad at his dad for leaving him so suddenly, when they still had so much more to do together.

And then he cried. And cried. And cried until Piney crept up beside him and pulled him into his arms.

When he turned his head again, and found Dylan sitting a few rows behind him with Cash and Dr. Shaw, he felt his lips curl up into a smile, even if it hurt, and even if that smile probably didn't really look like a smile at all.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't cry in front of all these people today, and he was going to keep that promise. All these mourners, all these clubs, all these patches…they'd remember this moment at John Teller's funeral. They'd remember that his only living son stood tall and that he was brave and that he honored his fallen father's memory with strength and a mental toughness that would make John proud.

They'd remember his name. They'd remember his face. And they'd remember that he didn't fucking cry.

So after the casket was lowered into the ground, after the Harleys lined up in the cemetery revved their engines one last time for the mother charter's founding father, and after the crowd began to disperse, Jax stayed put in his chair. Maybe it was a vigil, or maybe he just couldn't tear himself away from the fresh grave that held his dad's remains, but he just couldn't leave yet.

Gemma had disappeared from her chair a little while ago, graciously shaking people's hands, getting kisses on the cheek, and comforting embraces from everyone and anyone. Now, his gaze flitted out across the crowd and he found her easily, enveloped by Piney, Bobby, and Tig, and with Clay's arms wrapped around her tight.

His eyes narrowed a little.

He didn't really know how he felt about _that_ yet. About the way that Clay had never seemed to leave Gemma's side since the accident, and how he always seemed to just be there, all the time, and at all hours of the night in their house. That didn't make much sense to him, but this wasn't the time or the place to talk to his mother about it either.

Jax's head turned again when he felt a soft hand slip inside his. Of course, it was her. Who else would it be?

Dylan smiled softly back at him, and she squeezed his hand.

"It's kinda crazy how many people showed up today, huh?" her sweet voice called out to him.

He felt his lips curl at the sound of her voice. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Everybody really loved JT. And they really respected him too. I know I did."

All he could do was nod. He wasn't so sure he had much of a voice left to respond. She seemed to know it too, because she just scooted in closer, careful to rearrange her black dress around her knees, and then she rested her head on his shoulder.

They sat there for a few moments in silence, with his hand twisted around hers and her head nestled against his shoulder.

"Does it ever get any easier?" he found himself asking her now, even though his voice didn't really sound like his voice.

Dylan sighed against his shoulder, shifting just enough to rest her chin where her head had been. "The first couple of weeks are the hardest. The first couple of months are hard too. It hurts for a while, Jax. It really does."

Yeah, he got that. After Tommy died, he felt like his heart might just explode because it had hurt so bad. But this was a different kind of pain. Losing his brother had hurt like hell. But this was a wound that felt like it might _never_ heal. And maybe that was just because he'd lost both of them so terribly and in such a short time, but right about now, it felt like _this_ loss was the one he might never recover from.

"But it helps to remember the good things," Dylan murmured to him. "The bad things are still bad, but if you just focus on the good and the happy, then the bad doesn't seem that bad either."

He huffed out a laugh, even though there was nothing really funny about any of this. "Thanks. I guess I'll just have to wait until it doesn't hurt as much - however long that is."

"Well," she smiled up at him. "I think about my mom all the time. And I remember her smile, and the way she smelled like vanilla and flowers. This one time when my dad wasn't looking, I swiped that bottle of perfume from their dresser and hid it in my bathroom. Sometimes, when I'm really missing her, and when I really wish I could see her and talk to her, I'll go in the bathroom and lock the door, and I'll sit on the toilet and smell her perfume. That helps me remember the good, and it helps the pain go away too."

Jax nodded, more to himself than anything. That wasn't a bad idea. Maybe he could swipe one of John's old Samcro sweatshirts, or maybe one of his blue bandannas, when Gemma wasn't looking and he could have something of his dad's that was just his.

The club didn't count, at least not really. The club belonged to all its members, not just the president. But there had to be something in the house that he could take, like Dylan had said, without Gemma being the wiser, that he could keep hidden until he needed it.

That would get him through. It _had_ to.

He had to be strong now - for his mother, for the club, for the president he knew he'd grow up to become.

And, as he glanced down to find Dylan resting her head on his shoulder again, he knew he would be.

As long as she was next to him, he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - The next chapter is the first flashback chapter that shows them navigating through all the super-fun teenage angst that they're in for ;) Even now, they've clearly got feelings for each other - and are soulmates, right? But the next chapter will see them starting to come to terms with those feelings at 14, and then at 16, and all the messy mistakes and misunderstandings that come with being in love and in high school at the same time.
> 
> These chapters were so much fun to write, and I can't wait to share more of them with you! Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter Three

_October 1999  
_ _Fourteen Years Old_

 _It was the best of times, the worst of crimes  
_ _I struck a match and blew your mind  
_ _But I didn't mean it  
_ _And you didn't see it  
_ _-Taylor Swift_

Dylan cast a sly glance to her right as she fiddled with the combination on her locker. Her friend was in a mood today, that was for sure. When she just pushed out a heavy sigh and leaned her head back against the locker next to her, Dylan dropped her lock and hitched a hand on her hip.

"Donna."

Her friend, and locker buddy, lifted her dark eyes off the floor and tucked some of her short chestnut hair behind her ear, but she still couldn't meet Dylan on the eye. This had been going on for the last few days, and sooner or later, Donna needed to just put everyone out of their misery. Like, literally, _everyone._

"You have to give them an answer. The dance is _tomorrow_."

"I know," Donna grumbled. "I _know._ "

"You have a dress and everything. You've got a hair appointment. I bet you even know exactly how you're gonna do your makeup."

When Donna's eyes just dropped to the tile floor again, Dylan shook her head with a grin. There wasn't much else to say, especially considering it was growing increasingly difficult for Dylan to muster up much sympathy at Donna's current romantic dilemma. After all, Donna had not just one, but _two_ guys ask her to Homecoming.

Dylan had sat around for weeks, waiting for someone to ask her. It was their freshman year and this was the first time she was going to get to go to a real high school dance, and she thought for sure somebody would've asked her by now. Maybe Jake from her Algebra 2 class. Or Adam from Spanish 1 - they talked all the time in class, and he always asked her for help on their worksheets, even though he always knew all the answers when Senora Robinson called on him in class for puntos. She thought for _sure_ Adam would ask her. But here they were, the Friday before the dance and she'd just heard from someone in her last class that he'd asked Ashley Flores earlier this week, and she'd said yes.

Jake from Algebra 2 wouldn't even look at her today in first period.

So, while she was waiting, she'd taken it upon herself to ask Will if he had a date, who sat next to her in English, and his eyes had widened the size of baseballs. It was then that she realized her brother had turned his head at the sound of her voice, and was staring Will down like he was about to unleash the hounds of hell if Will dared to respond.

She'd also made the mistake of bringing up the topic of the dance to Alex F., _not_ Alex J. - Alex Jameson always stared at her chest in gym class and creeped her out - but Alex Fergus was nice, and kinda cute too with his black Ray Ban glasses, and she thought they might have fun at the dance together.

Dylan had said as much to Alex too, and unfortunately for her, she'd also said as much to Alex when Cash, Opie, and Jax were all standing about three feet away. So that had been an epic fail.

But after lunch she had American History with Sam Phillips, and she was pretty sure he didn't have a date yet. At least she hadn't heard that he was going with anyone. And Sam was kinda cute too, in a nerdy kind of way, and they'd talked a little bit in the media class they had second period, and they'd worked together pretty well on an article about the cross country team's training regime last week for the school newspaper.

So maybe she had that going for her. She just had to make sure that when she _did_ bring it up, none of her friends were within earshot.

"Maybe we should just all go as a group," Donna threw out. "That would solve everyone's problems, wouldn't it? I mean, you don't have a date. And if you don't get a date before tomorrow anyway, then it would just be weird to go by ourselves."

Dylan lifted an eyebrow at her friend. "And that means your date would be…"

Donna scrunched her face up in defeat, and then whirled around to bang her head against her locker. "I don't _know._ I think I want to go with both of them, okay? There. I said it."

"Well, you know if we all go as a group, you're going to end up dancing with Cash the whole time, and I'll be dancing with Ope, because Cash isn't gonna wanna come near me that way. So if _that's_ not what you want, then I think you might have to choose one. Besides, all this…the you-choosing-not-to-decide thing, that's only gonna make it worse for them, _and_ you. Either pick one, or cut 'em both loose."

Cash had asked Donna to Homecoming about an hour before Opie last week, and she _still_ couldn't give either of them a straight answer. They definitely hadn't planned it that way - if the shock and horror on Cash and Opie's faces when they figured it out was any indication, not to mention the way Jax had bowled over laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

"I know, I know," Donna sighed, blowing some dark hair out of her face as she spoke. "Maybe I do just need to pick one and be done with it. That _would_ kinda put the whole group dynamic we've got goin' on in a weird spot."

Dylan put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Just rip off the band aid, Don. It's either one of them, or none of them. Besides, it kinda sucks that there's only one day left before the dance. Whoever you don't pick is just runnin' out the clock now on finding another date - and _don't_ you dare say I can just go with whoever you don't pick. I will hit you, girl. Like _hard_. And you know I'll do it."

"You'll do what?"

Dylan glanced to her left to find her best friend standing in the hallway about three feet away from them. His lips pulled to the side in a sly smirk, and he tucked some long blonde hair behind his ear before crossing his arms over his white Samcro T-shirt, waiting patiently for her to respond.

"Nothing, Jax," she just batted a hand his way. "I was just telling Donna that she needs to rip off the bandaid already."

"Ah," he smirked again, shifting the sucker in his mouth from one side to the other as he waved Dylan aside so he could unlock her locker and grab a notebook from it. "You still didn't give them an answer yet? That's cold, Don."

"It is _not_. At least, that's not what I'm _trying_ to do. I just…I just don't know."

Jax just lifted his eyebrows and wagged a finger at Donna. "See this is why I think this stupid dance is just gonna ruin everything. Who cares who goes with who? I don't get why any of you even wanna go. We can just hang at my house tomorrow night or somethin' and forget about the whole damn thing. Clay's got plenty of beer there, and it's not like he'll care if we grab some of it and have a fire or somethin'."

Donna just huffed at him. "Because we only get one Homecoming dance every year. And we only get _four_ of them, Jax. We can have a fire at your house any night we want. This is different."

He just rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and scrunched his face up to sass back at her. "Whatever. It sounds pretty stupid to me."

Donna eyed him carefully, tilting her head to the side a little before shifting her gaze back to Dylan. "So, Dylan's gonna ask Sam Phillips to the dance after lunch. Do you think he'll say yes or turn her down like Alex Fergus did?"

Dylan's heart stuttered in her chest, and she reared forward to shove her friend playfully back to her locker. "Hey! Don't jinx it by saying it out loud, okay? Now he's gonna say no for sure, and that's your fault, Don."

Donna just lifted her eyebrows suggestively before swiveling her gaze back to Jax, who still hadn't responded. Dylan dared a glance at him, and was immediately struck by just how much he seemed to tower over her right now. He'd shot up about six inches over the summer, so she'd had some time to adjust to their new height difference, but right now…he seemed to grow taller by the second, straightening his back and tilting his chin like he was puffing out his chest or something.

And his face, which had a few new blonde whiskers on the chin, turned into an impassive mask, like this whole conversation had just gone from stupid to even stupider in about two seconds flat.

"Like I said," Jax shot back, now that a cocky grin had slipped across his face, and then he drew a little circle in the air between them all. "This whole thing is dumb. The dance is dumb. The date thing is dumb. I don't get why any of you even care."

Dylan's lips parted to respond, but then the warning bell went off above their heads, signalling that they had about 60 seconds to get to their next class before they were marked tardy. Jax didn't care so much about being tardy - like ever - but Dylan and Donna still had to scramble across the hall so they could make it to gym on time. And _then,_ they still had to change too. So, Dylan just pushed Jax into the hallway, ignoring the way he barked out a laugh, and then she made a run for it with Donna on the off-chance they'd actually make it to gym on time today.

They got there about a half a second before the bell rang, just in time for attendance, and then they scampered down the hallway to go to the locker rooms and change for class.

They were about halfway down the hall when Donna leaned in to murmur in her ear, "I still don't get why you won't just ask Jax. He'd say yes, you know. All you'd have to do is ask him."

"Maybe," Dylan shrugged a little helplessly. "But I don't know…you heard him. He doesn't really wanna go, Don. And if I ask him, _maybe_ he'll go but he'd just be doing it because he feels bad for me."

"I don't think _that's_ true."

"Well, if he wanted to go, and if he wanted to go with _me,_ don't you think he would've asked me by now? I mean, we both know he could ask any girl at school and they'd say yes. Don't you think he would've asked someone by now if he really wanted to go with _anyone_?"

Donna mulled that over a little as they pushed through the doors to the girls' locker room and headed for their lockers. She had to know that was true because it _was_. Jax didn't need to wait the day before the dance to ask someone. If he wanted to go, he'd already be going. And the thought of being his pity-date, of him just agreeing to it so she didn't have to withstand the humiliation of going by herself, or even sitting out the whole thing altogether…that was worse than getting rejected by all the boys at school combined.

"I guess," Donna finally allowed as she plopped down on the bench between the rows of lockers and slipped off her shoes. "I still think he'd take you though."

"Still don't have a date to Homecoming?" a familiar, shrill voice called out from the end of the row. Dylan closed her eyes at the sound of the girl's voice - God, it was like nails on a chalkboard sometimes - and when she opened them again, she found Analise Taylor staring back at her with her snotty hands on her snotty hips, and an even snottier smirk on her lips.

"None of your business, Malibu," Dylan shot back. "Why don't you go to your own locker and put your heels on?"

"Sorry," Analise smiled snidely and flipped her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. "I don't leave my good heels in my locker with you around. Wouldn't want them to get stolen or anything. Or wait. You wouldn't be interested in my shoes unless they were Air Jordans. Sorry. My bad."

Analise's evil smile just widened as Dylan stared back at her. For now, though, the sight of the head bitch in charge, at least in cheerleader terms, standing ten feet away from her was just as annoying as it was a stark reminder of everything that she wasn't, and probably would never be. Everything about her, right down to her long blonde hair, long skinny legs, crystal clear blue eyes, glossy full lips, even fuller C cups…there was no way Dylan could ever compete with that in just about anything. Except basketball.

"See - this is your problem, _Dylan_. You act like a boy, talk like a boy, play like a boy - all the boys in school just think you're a boy. No wonder you can't get a date to Homecoming. None of them think you're really a _girl_."

"Get bent," Dylan growled.

"Yeah," Donna nodded in solidarity. "Get the hell outta here. We weren't talking to you."

"Oh no," Analise scoffed, bringing a hand to her heart in faux-horror. "What am I gonna do now?" and then she dropped the act with a smug grin, tilting her head to the side to take in Dylan's khaki skirt and Hollister T-shirt, "I know you're _trying_ to look more like a girl, but you have to grow some boobs first for that to actually work, you know?"

Dylan just waved her away, and Analise might've had another bitchy comeback, but then all her other cheerleader friends who were in their gym class walked down the row directly behind them. That drew her attention away from them and to the next row over, so Dylan and Donna could finally get ready for class in peace.

"Ugh," Dylan rolled her eyes as she shook her head in disgust. "Just when I thought she couldn't be more of a bitch, she goes and completely upends my expectations."

"Forget about her," Donna batted a hand in the air and then pulled on a pair of running shorts. "You know she'd kill to be in your Nikes anyway."

"Okay," she just laughed through a frown. "Sure. Whatever you say, Don."

Donna shook her head with a raised eyebrow, like she just couldn't believe they were really still having this conversation, and honestly, Dylan couldn't really believe it either. Analise was a bitch. Lucky for them, they were playing basketball today in class.

But then both girls got real quiet when some hushed voices crept through the rows of lockers between them and the cheerleaders on the other side.

"So what did you _do_ last night?"

That sounded like Ashley Flores, the girl who'd snatched Adam from Spanish 1 right out from under her for the dance.

"Yeah, seriously. I can't believe you just called him like that and asked him to come over."

"Well," Analise's hushed sugary-sweet voice wafted through the lockers. "I figured the only way to get what I wanted was to just go get it, right? I've been dropping hints left and right that I wanted him to come over, but it's hard when I only see him at school and then he's always working at T-M now."

Dylan's eyes widened as they flew to collide with Donna's.

"And then he doesn't have IM, even though I've been asking him, like, for forever when he's finally gonna sign-up on AoL, but he said his mom doesn't think they need a computer at home when he can just go over to you-know-who's house and use hers or use a computer at the shop. So, I was like, fine, okay, you wanna play hard to get? That's fine. I'll play," Analise giggled a little. "So I looked up his number in the school directory and called his house."

"Oh my God," Ashley laughed. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Whatever. I'm just lucky he was there, you know? I mean, he coulda been at the shop or at the clubhouse, and then I would've missed him."

"What did you _say_ though?"

"I was like, hey, you wanna come over to my house and make out?" Analise told them in this sing-song voice that made Dylan want to leap over the side of the lockers and clock her right in the face. "And he was all like, sure, when do you want me to come over? Like, no hesitation or anything. He was just like, uh, _yeah_ , I'll come over and make out with you. He came over, like, an hour later when my parents were at my sister's soccer game."

So _that's_ where he'd been. They'd planned on playing basketball in Opie's driveway the night before, but Jax had called Ope's house about ten minutes before they were supposed to start playing and said something had come up. If he told Ope where he was going, Ope had kept his trap shut about it. Dylan hadn't thought much of it at the time - Jax was always doing weird stuff like that now, and it had only gotten worse since Clay Morrow had moved into his house. Sometimes, he'd just flake on them and say something had come up, and now, she had a pretty good idea what he'd really been doing.

"So you made out? Did you, like…you know?"

"Did I like…what?" Analise murmured through her laugh. "You mean, did I touch his…yeah, I definitely did."

Someone else laughed a little bit like they were scandalized by the whole thing, and Dylan felt a little bit like the walls were closing in on her.

"But I thought you were going to the dance with Liam tomorrow? Do you think he'll find out you were with Jax last night and get pissed?"

"Who cares? Besides, it's not like Jax and Liam are friends, and Jax told me he wasn't gonna tell anybody he came over and that we should just keep it between us."

"Okay," Ashley laughed again. "Nice job of doing that, Lise."

"Like I wasn't gonna tell my girls? Come _on_. I hooked up with the hottest guy in the whole fucking school last night. Of _course_ I was gonna tell you!"

" _And_ you touched his…"

"Yeah," Analise giggled. "I _did._ And it got like, _bigger_ and like _harder_ the longer I was touching it, and then he took my hand and put it in his boxers, and then I was _really_ touching it, you know? The clean-up part was kinda gross, but oh my God, Ash, he was like making all these hot noises in my ear and he put his mouth on my neck when all that stuff was getting all over my hand, and it was like…oh my God, I wish I was going to the dance with _him_ , you know? Then we could do that again tomorrow night and I wouldn't have to, like, wait until next week after the dance is over."

"You could just ditch Liam and see if Jax would go with you. He might say yes if he thinks he's gonna get a repeat of last night."

At this point, Dylan was surprised her entire throat hadn't completely sealed shut. All she wanted to do was run out of that locker room so she wouldn't have to hear any more of this shit, but her body was frozen to the bench underneath her. Donna put a hand on her shoulder to try to get her attention, but Dylan just kept her eyes on the floor, her chest rising and falling a little bit faster than she was used to.

"God, I fucking _wish_ ," Analise laughed again. "I asked him last night if he wanted to go with me, and he said he can't. He picked up a shift at T-M and wouldn't be done in time or something like that."

Dylan lifted her eyebrows at Donna as if to say, _see?_ But Donna just bit down on her bottom lip, her forehead creased into a disturbed line, and she shook her head.

"Damn, that sucks."

"Ugh, I know, right?"

The voices got a little softer and muffled now as they echoed down the hall and out the door, leaving Dylan and Donna to finally find that elusive peace in the locker room. Except for the fact that, above the ringing in Dylan's ears, and the heat creeping across her chest, her hands were trembling ever so slightly in her lap, and she curled them into fists so Donna didn't see.

Donna pushed out a heavy sigh, and wrapped an arm around Dylan's shoulders. "Hey, you know…I was thinking. And I think maybe we should just do the group thing. That way, neither of us have to worry about stupid dates, you know? We can just get ready at my house - I can do your hair and your makeup if you want - and then we can meet the guys at the dance and just try to have a good time. How's that sound?"

She pressed a tight smile to her face as she finished tying her shoelaces, and nodded to her friend. Right about now, she'd never been more grateful Donna's locker had ended up right next to hers, and that they'd become fast friends because of it. She hadn't realized how much she'd wanted another girl in their group until Donna came along, even if the new addition had brought some drama along with it.

And Dylan carried that thought all the way with her to the gym, holding onto the idea that everything would really be fine, and that she had no reason to be upset at anyone. Until Analise walked in front of her with her stupid little booty shorts and her long, blonde ponytail and even longer legs that had probably been wrapped around Jax the night before, and before she could stop herself, the ball flew out of her hands and right into the back of Analise's bitchy blonde head.

"Hey!" Analise cried out, her hand flying up to cover the spot where the ball had hit her. "What the hell was that for, you dumb bitch!

Dylan just shrugged with a smug grin. "The ball slipped. _Oops_."

* * *

_Later That Night_

By the time the band played through Charming High School's fight song, Dylan was already bored. Football had never really been that interesting to her, but it was the Homecoming game, so, at Donna's urging, they were here, way up high in the student section of the bleachers. Jax and Cash were taking turns jumping on the bleachers to see just how much noise they could make and just how many people they could annoy, but then again, all anyone had to do was take one look at their black Samcro sweatshirts, and they were left alone.

People at school, just as a general rule, didn't mess with any of the boys if they could help it, and the Homecoming football game was no exception.

Dylan glanced to her right, and smirked a little as she shook her head. Opie and Donna were about three feet away from her, a careful distance away from where Jax and Cash were messing around, and their heads were leaning in together, deep in some kind of conversation they didn't want anyone else to hear. Of course, Cash didn't miss this particular development, and his eyes kept drifting over to them every few seconds to see what was going on over there.

Maybe it really was for the best that Donna had just waved the white flag for now, at least in terms of the dance. If she really couldn't decide between the two of them, then it was better for her to just not go to the dance with anyone in particular. But, Dylan suspected that Donna fully planned on _dancing_ with both of them too, which didn't really make it better.

And it certainly didn't make matters any better when she caught Analise, who was down on the field in her red and white cheerleading uniform and that short, tight little skirt, waving and grinning at Jax. He, of course, tipped his chin to her cockily and knowingly, and even threw a wink her way for good measure.

"Hey, Don," Dylan leaned in closer to get her friend's attention. "I'm gonna go get some popcorn. I'll be right back - you want anything?"

Donna pulled herself away from her deep conversation with Opie long enough to shake her head, and then she went back to whispering something to Opie. When Dylan glanced over to her left again, Jax was still watching Analise on the field, his lips curling up at the corners as Analise kicked her right leg high into the air, flashing the whole student section the red bloomers underneath her skirt.

So, she'd been grateful for the general alone time, if that's what standing in a long line at the concession stand could really be called, until she felt an elbow nudge her in the side. Her head turned to find Jax, shooting her that same cocky grin that he just flashed Analise on the football field, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"What?" he smirked, elbowing her in the side again. "Why'd you take off like that? I woulda walked down here with ya if I knew you were going."

"I can walk by myself just fine, thanks."

His eyebrows lifted as his hands shot up in defense. "Whoa, Smalls. Simmer down. What the hell's been up your ass today anyway? You've been actin' weird ever since lunch."

If he was referring to the fact that she'd strayed from their usual routine after gym class, and had sat on the opposite end of their usual lunch table, and as far away from him as she could, then he was right.

"I have _not_."

"Have _too_ ," he snarked back, still regarding her with that cocky smirk as he tucked some blonde hair behind his ear. "So spill it, Smalls. What's up your ass?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to get some popcorn."

"'Kay, and I just felt like goin' for a walk."

Dylan narrowed her eyes at him as they took another step forward in line. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he grinned back at her again, this time folding his arms across his chest. "I think you're lying to me. And I wanna know why."

See, this was the problem with knowing someone since she was 10 years old. He could read her like the back of his hand, and he always seemed to know when something was wrong - even if he didn't seem to know he was the reason why.

"I just had a long day at school, and I'm tired, and I don't really wanna be at this stupid game anymore anyway," she offered, but it was a lame excuse, and he probably wouldn't believe her.

True to form, Jax tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "A'ight, Smalls. I guess it's been a long week, huh? All this stupid shit about the dance - I'm gonna be glad when it's just all over. But hey, at least we're all going as a group now, right? Maybe I'll actually have some fun now."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"What?" Jax just shrugged, his lips spreading apart in an innocent smile. "Ope said you guys decided to just go as a group 'cuz Don didn't wanna choose between him and Cash Money and 'cuz every lame ass guy _you_ asked turned you down - sad, but true. So, I figured I'd go too and check it out."

"Don't you have to work at T-M though?"

Jax's head whipped around to face her, his eyebrows dropping into a deep frown. "Nah, I'm not workin' tomorrow."

She pushed out a heavy sigh when they finally stepped up to the counter so she could finally get some damn popcorn. After she ordered her popcorn, he made a little show of digging into his back pocket for his wallet, and jostling the chain attached to his baggy jeans, but she beat him to the punch, throwing down a five dollar bill on the counter before he had a chance to do something stupid.

"Hey!" Jax laughed, lunging toward her and wrapping both arms around her waist to lift her high into the air. "Ya lil' shit. I was gonna pay for that 'cuz I want some too."

"Whatever," she was laughing too, but at the same time, she grabbed the popcorn and her change off the counter and tried in vain to unlock the vise grip he had around her waist. "Alright. _Alright_."

But he _still_ hadn't let her go, and was now playfully whipping her body around like she was a ragdoll, and suddenly, she was just _done_ with this and donewith _him_ right now.

"Hey, Jax, stop!" she struggled against his grasp, and when he still didn't put her down, her voice got a little tighter, and a little more urgent now. "Come on. Put me _down."_

She shoved against chest, wrangling herself out of his grip when he finally put her down, and then she shoved him in the chest one more time because she could.

"Hey! What was that for?" he frowned down at her.

"'Cuz you were being a jerk!"

"What the hell is up your _ass_ today? You've been a bitch since lunch. What, are you on your period again or somethin'?"

Her eyes flew around them, wincing when she realized that people had actually heard that. "Shut up, ya lil' jerk! And don't call me a bitch, you bitch!"

Now, his shoulders shook with laughter as his mouth worked its way around an amused grin. "Did you just call me a bitch, Smalls?"

"Yes, I did. And you deserved it, you asshole."

"Oh, okay. So now I'm an asshole. What'd I do that was so terrible, huh?"

By now, she'd edged around the side of the concession stand to get away from all the eyes around them, knowing he'd follow her, and she glanced down at the popcorn bag in her hand, which was basically empty already from the way he'd been whipping her around in the air, spilling popcorn everywhere on the ground. With a huff, she tossed the paper bag into the trash, jerking her arm away the second she felt his hand close around her wrist.

"Hey, what the hell, Smalls?"

"Stop calling me that," she called over her shoulder as she put some more distance between them.

Jax skidded to a stop, his ocean blue eyes wide and alert. "What?"

"You heard me. I said stop calling me that. I'm not that small anymore, and I'm not a boy, Jax."

"I _know_ you're not a boy," he growled at her, making another grab for her arm, and this time getting a fistful of her bicep. "Hey, will you just quit the shit for a second and tell me what's wrong with you?"

"Knock it off," she shot back. "Don't touch me like that."

His hands were off her immediately, and he held his palms up with wide eyes. "Okay, okay. Jesus, doll. Are you…" Jax bit down on his bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously as he gestured with his head toward a picnic table off to the side. "Can we go sit down and talk? You're really freakin' me out right now."

Because she knew him well enough to know he'd sooner throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the picnic table himself before he'd let her go back to the bleachers without talking, she lifted her chin in defiance. Then she marched over to the picnic table before plopping down on the bench with Jax right on her heels.

He hopped up on the table with his feet planted on the bench next to her, and didn't waste a second. "Dylan, would you just -"

"I thought you had to work tomorrow," she cut in sharply. "Didn't you pick up a shift at T-M or something? Why do you wanna go to the dance all of a sudden?"

Jax's head turned at that, and his blue eyes hardened. "Where'd you hear that? About me workin' tomorrow? Who told you that, doll?"

"Nobody told me."

"Bullshit nobody told you. _I_ sure as hell didn't tell you," he shot back. "I _don't_ have to work and I never did. So, if someone told you I said that, I wanna know who it was."

"Why do you wanna go to the dance with us now? I thought you said it was stupid and that you didn't get why any of us wanted to go."

Jax blew out an agitated sigh, and he rubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans. "I don't know. I thought all the stupid drama with the dates and all that shit was pointless and dumb, and now that nobody's talkin' about it anymore, I figured I might as well go too. Since I _don't_ have to work, I'd just be sitting at home by myself, now wouldn't I?"

Her mind worked around all that piece by piece, and by the end, she figured that made a little bit of sense. If nobody technically had dates, and if everyone was going anyway, Jax really would be sitting home by himself - Clay and Gemma would be at the clubhouse on Saturday anyway, and Gemma still maintained that they were all too young to be at the clubhouse on the weekend.

"I mean…that's all you guys could talk about for like, the last two _weeks_. I guess I just got sick of hearing about it."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Right," then he leaned in, his blue eyes scrutinizing her now in a way that set her off-balance. "So you never answered my question before, doll. Where'd you hear that story about me pickin' up a shift at T-M tomorrow?"

And all of a sudden, she just didn't want to talk about this anymore. So, she decided to lie, and deny, and lie and deny some more.

"I just heard some girls talking about it earlier today."

"What girls?"

"Just some girls."

Jax's eyes narrowed again, and his lips dipped into a deep frown. "Lemme guess? Those girls were cheerleaders?"

So, now she had to decide. She could fib just enough to satisfy him and end it here. Or she could push it just a little further to see if he would admit it. To see if he'd look her in the eye and say it out loud.

"Yeah," she decided to push it. "They were cheerleaders. I heard them talking about it in gym class."

It took Jax all of three seconds to put two and two together. He knew exactly which cheerleaders were in her gym class because he heard her and Donna complaining about them all the time. One cheerleader in particular, too.

"Were they talking about where I was last night?" he called out quietly, folding his hands in front of his knees and staring down at the grass with a frown.

"You mean, when you shoulda been at Ope's with us playing ball?"

"Doll…" he trailed off when he got a good look at her face. He must've seen everything he needed to see, and to know everything that she knew.

She didn't know why her throat was burning all of a sudden. Why it suddenly felt like she was going to cry in front of her best friend like this, and _because_ of something like this. It didn't matter where he was last night. It didn't matter what he was doing last night either. He could do whatever he wanted.

She just didn't want to hear about it.

"What?" Jax huffed in frustration as he yanked a hand through his long blonde hair. "So now I'm in trouble 'cuz a hot, dumb as a box of rocks cheerleader called me outta the blue and asked me to come over and hook up? I woulda been stupid to say no. And what the fuck do you care anyway?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"All you've cared about these last few weeks is which douchebag is gonna ask you to that stupid dance. And _then_ , all you cared about was who _you_ were gonna ask and who might say yes and who might have a date already and blah blah fucking blah. So what if I hooked up with a cheerleader and got some play? I don't see what difference it makes to you, doll. Nobody was supposed to know about it anyway."

There was something in the tight tone of his voice that she couldn't place, something she'd never heard before, at least not directed at her. But beyond all that, all she could focus on was, _so what if I hooked up with a cheerleader and got some play?_

Fine.

So what.

"You're right," Dylan told him with a heavy sigh. "I'm not your babysitter, and I'm definitely not your mom. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep things from me either, Jax. You don't have to lie to me, you know - or to Ope or Cash either. You can do whatever you want."

And he could do whatever he wanted because, obviously, he'd never once considered asking _her_ to the dance - he'd known how badly she wanted to go, and how badly she'd wanted a date, and that throwing in the towel to do the group thing wasn't really what she wanted - and he'd had plenty of opportunities to talk to her about it, especially after Cash and Ope asked Donna. If he'd actually asked her, she would've said yes in a heartbeat. Her heart probably would've exploded too. Even if she was just his pity-date.

But all he'd done since the dance had first been brought up weeks ago was trash talk it and make fun of anyone and everyone who said they wanted to go.

And he'd obviously cared more about hooking up with a stupid cheerleader and _getting some play_ than playing basketball with her last night like they'd planned.

So, yeah. He could do whatever he wanted. She really _didn't_ care.

He didn't respond, choosing instead to keep his eyes in front of him and his hands folded tightly at his knees.

"I'm sorry," Dylan tried again, hoping her voice sounded calmer, and less crazy, than it had before. "What you do, who you do it with…I guess it's none of my business, is it?"

A hard tick ran down Jax's jaw, and then he swallowed hard, glancing down at his hands as he spoke, "Yeah. I guess not."

"Are you still gonna come with us tomorrow?" she tried to smile a little, but it didn't feel like it was working. "You know you have to like, put on a shirt that's not a T-shirt, and wear pants that aren't jeans though."

His lips curved at that, and he glanced down at his jeans. "I guess I'll figure something out. You'll save me a dance though, right?"

"What?" Dylan scoffed. "No."

Jax's forehead immediately dipped into a frown, and his jaw tightened into a taut line again. "Why not?"

"'Cuz I decided to say screw boys at this stupid dance, and to just have a good time with Donna," Dylan informed him with a smug grin. "So, I'm not dancing with _any_ boys tomorrow. No slow dancing for me. It's Backstreet Boys or bust."

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as his blue eyes glittered with amusement. "A'ight. I guess I can live with that," and then he tipped his chin to her, some of that trademark cockiness slipping across his face again, "I can still call you Smalls though, right? You didn't mean that before, did you?"

Dylan made a little show of pretending to mull that over, and when he pulled his lips down in a pout that was way too cute for his own good, she just lifted her eyebrows in challenge.

"Come on," he pouted again, leaning in until his chin rested playfully on her shoulder. " _Please_. Pretty please. You know you like it when I call you Smalls - you just don't wanna admit it."

She sighed heavily, and even as she felt her lips curl into a smile, her heart and her stomach still felt heavy from this whole conversation, or argument, or whatever it was - she didn't like the way it had felt.

"Oh, alright," Dylan gave in playfully. "I guess it's okay."

Jax pumped a fist in the air. " _Yes_. I knew it, doll."

"Yeah, whatever," Dylan huffed as her eyes drifted over him, taking in the way his blue eyes glittered back at her, the way his smirk hit her right in the pit of her stomach, the way his blonde hair curled around his chin, the way his jaw and his chin seemed to be perfectly aligned, perfectly proportioned, and the way he was just perfect in general.

* * *

 _October 2001  
_ _Sixteen Years Old_

"Oh my God," Jax grimaced, gripping the holy shit bar above his head. "We're all gonna die."

Dylan just tsked at him, lifting a hand to bat it at him, and panic gripped his throat as his left hand shot out to steady the wheel.

"Jesus Christ, Smalls," he bit out as Opie and Cash snickered behind them. "Both hands on the wheel!"

Suddenly, Piney's truck lurched forward, and Jax was lucky he'd put on his damn seat belt because he just might've gone right through the windshield.

"There goes the transmission," Cash chuckled in the backseat.

"I think y'all just need to chill," Dylan breezed right through a stop sign as she spoke, and Jax squeezed his eyes shut just in case this was really the end. "I'm doing just fine. Piney said it would take me a few tries to figure it out, and this is only my second try."

"And your last," Jax muttered under his breath.

"Screw you, Teller," she sassed back, turning her head to cock an eyebrow at him, and that just sent another shockwave of panic through him.

He jerked a hand at the windshield in a desperate gambit to draw her attention back to the road, and then his hand smacked the console in front of him when the truck lurched forward again in jerky motions like they were all on a rickety roller coaster that should've been put out of commission years ago. She glanced down at the stick shift in between them, her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she worked through which gear she needed to shift to next.

When she clamped her foot down on the brake, his eyes widened, and he started shaking his head anxiously.

"No, no, _no_ ," he pushed out through gritted teeth. "Clutch first, Smalls. Clutch first!"

"Okay, _okay_ ," Dylan waved him away again, glancing down underneath the wheel to make sure she was putting her foot on the right pedal, and he felt himself relax just a touch. "Don't get your panties in a twist. You're just making it worse by freaking out like this. If you'd just calm down and let me _drive,_ maybe I could actually _learn_."

But when the truck lurched forward yet again, nearly sending both of them headfirst into the windshield, he'd had just about enough of this shit. With visions of them hitting oncoming traffic, of her going _through_ the windshield, or her getting slammed into from the driver's side running through his mind, this little driving lesson was over.

Maybe someday he'd recover from it long enough to give this another shot, but until that day came, she was no longer allowed to even _think_ about driving Piney's truck. She wasn't that much better in the little Dodge Neon that Dr. Shaw had gotten the twins for their birthday last March, and he tended to avoid getting in the car if she was driving anyway.

"Alright, that's it," Jax jerked his head to the right. "Pull over. You're done."

"No. I've been driving, like, five minutes."

"Yeah," Opie chimed in from the backseat. "And that was long enough, Smalls."

"Hey," Dylan jutted out her bottom lip in a pout that drew Jax's attention right to her pretty mouth. "That's not fair. You should be on _my_ side, Ope."

"Yeah?" Jax turned his head again to cock an eyebrow at her. "And why's that?"

"'Cuz he's my date to the dance next weekend. I thought that was just a given that'd he be on _my_ side," Dylan glanced pointedly at Opie through the rearview mirror.

"When did this happen?" Jax shot back, feeling his chest rise and fall a little more rapidly now inside his Samcro hoodie. "I thought we were doin' the group thing again."

"Well, yeah," Dylan explained good-naturedly. "But then Donna decided she wanted to go with…" she trailed off, glancing behind her with a wince. "And so then Ope asked me if I wanted to go with him, and then we'd all still kinda be able to go together and…"

And…no one thought they needed to tell him? No one thought they needed to let him know they'd just abruptly changed the routine they'd had for the last two Homecomings, and were suddenly pairing off like a bunch of fucking assholes?

If anyone said anything else after that, Jax couldn't really hear it above the ringing in his ears. Even as Dylan finally gave in and pulled over to the side of the road, and even as he shot out of the passenger seat and jogged around the front end of the truck so he could slide in and take her spot in the driver's seat, that ringing just wouldn't dissipate.

And it definitely didn't help matters when he glanced in the backseat and found Opie grinning back at him with a cocky smirk.

Oh, so Ope thought he was hot shit now, huh?

Jax hadn't worked his ass off these last two years to keep every single idiot at their school away from Dylan just to be thwarted in the eleventh hour by one of his so-called best friends.

This was bullshit.

And it didn't even make sense.

And he told Ope as much when he cornered him in the locker room right before gym class the next day.

"What do you mean it doesn't make sense?" Opie just shrugged as he tied his shoelaces. "Smalls is my friend. She needed a date if we were gonna get real dates this year, so I asked her."

"Why didn't any of you jerks tell me this shit?"

Opie shrugged again, standing up straight to tower over him. Jax had shot up another four or five inches over the summer, so he stood right about at six foot even, but Opie still had at least four inches on him.

"Since when do we have to consult you about every move we make? Last I checked, you don't even have a prospect patch yet."

Jax just huffed in frustration, but he didn't let up. "Last I checked, you were still all pussy-whipped by Donna."

Opie's jaw tightened into a taut tick - obviously Jax had hit a nerve here, and that was exactly what he was going for. "She wanted to take a break."

"Yeah," Jax huffed out a laugh. "She wanted to take a break all over Cash Money's dick. So what? That doesn't mean you -"

"What?" Opie cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes all-seeing and narrowing in a way that set Jax off even more. "You think I got a thing for Smalls now instead?"

"That's not what I said, bro."

"Sure," Opie bared his teeth at him as he took an aggressive step closer to shove him in the chest. "And if you talk about Don and Cash like that again, I'm gonna lay your ass out all over this bench."

Jax's hands shot up in the air immediately, and he took a step back to put some more space between them. "Alright. Alright. I'm sorry, okay?"

He really hadn't meant to push Opie's buttons _quite_ like that. It just sort of happened beyond his control - and now he was standing here, cornering one of his oldest friends like an asshole and feeling more out of control than he'd ever felt in his life.

This had all just escalated in a way he hadn't anticipated. Starting with the fucked-up triangle involving three of his best friends - that had certainly spiralled out of control the second Donna decided to go all the way with Opie over the summer, changed her mind, and was now hooking up with Cash for whatever reason. Jax didn't get any of it - Donna had never been able to really decide between the two of them, and both Ope and Cash just sat around, waiting for her to make up her mind like little lovesick puppies.

He had no idea how Opie and Cash could still claim to be friends, let alone even be in the same room, but Jax figured they'd somehow been able to separate the friendship from the girl drama.

And now, Donna had really screwed everything up by deciding to actually go to Homecoming with Cash as a _date_. They'd had a good set-up before. They'd show up to the dance after it had already been underway for at least an hour - sophomore year the boys had snuck a flask in and took turns taking pulls from it behind the bleachers when the teachers weren't looking - and then they'd watch the girls dance until they got tired, and then they'd leave and go to either Opie or Jax's house, where they'd sit around by a fire and throw back some beers and listen to music.

It wasn't terrible. And while he'd prefer to skip the dance part, the night usually ended up being fun once they got back from the dance and could just hang out like they always did. The alternative, of course, was staying home by himself while his friends went off without him, and he wasn't going to do that either.

But now that had all been ruined.

"You know," Opie murmured, his dark eyes focused intently on him. "I don't get you, bro. If you wanna take Smalls to the dance so bad, why don't you just ask her? I can step back and find someone else to go with."

"That's not what this is about, Ope," Jax protested, his voice tight and a little bit angrier than he'd intended. "I just don't get why anything has to change. We had fun the last two years, didn't we? Why does Donna have to have a date all of a sudden?"

As soon as the words left his lips, he knew exactly why she had to have a date all of a sudden. It was always about Ope, and it was always about Cash, and it was always about her inability to really choose between them. Jax would've been willing to bet every Snickers bar in the commons that Donna had just pushed to go with Cash as a _date_ to stick it to Ope and make him jealous for some reason.

And if that was the case, then he didn't see why Opie had to drag Dylan into all that shit.

That and, Dylan had made it very clear their freshman year that she had no interest in going to a dance with _him_ , let alone even dancing one time with him at any of those stupid dances. It was like the thought had never even crossed her mind. That she'd never even considered him as an option, or even a possibility. Instead, she'd just worked overtime with Donna that first year to find a date, and then had gone about asking guys to the dance _literally_ right in front of him.

So he hadn't felt _that_ bad when he'd run interference on all those options and all those possibilities at every turn.

Dylan had also made it very clear that what he did and who he did it with was none of her business.

And so he also hadn't felt _that_ bad when more girls started to call his house, asking him to come over and mess around once word had gotten out that he'd done the same thing with Analise Taylor. It was just easier that way, and involved very little work on his end in getting into a girl's bedroom.

Once he was _in_ the girl's bedroom, though, that was a different story - because another thing he'd learned from that little encounter with Analise their freshman year was that girls talked _a lot_ , whether he wanted them to or not. And once he figured out how to give back what he was getting, the calls had only increased ten-fold. Every time, he got a little bit better too, and got a little more skilled in what girls liked, and what they didn't, and he figured that was something he needed to do too, if he wanted the calls to keep coming, and if he wanted to keep being able to do the least amount of work possible to get those calls.

It also saved him the awkwardness of having their number and them asking why he never called _and_ the inevitable questions about why he wasn't inviting them over to _his_ house. He just didn't want any of those girls in his personal space anyway - and he liked the thrill and the risk of sneaking in and out of bedrooms like a thief in the night.

It was fun. And before he left a girl's room, he always made sure they were both satisfied. That just seemed fair anyway.

"I don't know," Opie threw out, slicing his hands in the air in frustration. "Why does Donna do anything these days if it's not to piss me off and get back at me for something?"

Jax blew out a heavy breath with a tight nod. "Sorry, Ope. That sucks."

"Yeah, it really does. I love her, bro. You know? I fucking _love_ her and she's constantly pullin' this shit with Cash - acting like she wants him, and then she changes her mind and wants _me_. I don't know how much longer I can stand this shit."

 _Yeah_ , Jax thought ruefully. _You and me both._

"Still, Jax - I was serious before. You wanna take Smalls to the dance? Go ahead. I won't get in your way. We were just gonna go as friends anyway, so it's really not that big a deal."

"What difference does it make?" Jax just lifted a shoulder. "She doesn't really wanna go with me anyway. You two obviously got a plan worked out for the dance, and that's cool. There's no reason why anybody's gotta screw up their plans for me."

Because at the end of the day, if Dylan wanted to go with him, she'd ask. She'd had no problem asking other guys their freshman year, and had no problems doing it in front of him either, and where everybody else could fucking _see_. And whenever they'd all decided to change all their plans without telling him, she'd been perfectly happy to make new plans with Ope, and had obviously once again never even considered him as a real option.

She might as well go with Ope then, if she really wanted a date. At least he knew Opie wouldn't try anything with her and that he'd make sure she had a good time.

And that thought carried him through the whole rest of the week, right up until he walked into the school's gym with his own date on his arm.

As it turned out, getting a date to Homecoming was just as easy as getting into a girl's bedroom. She'd immediately dropped her date for him when he'd sauntered up to her locker the day after he found out all his friends had turned into assholes, and now here they were, getting high in his truck right before the dance and making out for a few minutes until she pulled away to drag him inside.

She looked pretty hot too, with her long blonde hair pulled up high onto her head, with some curly pieces hanging in front of her face, and that tight, satin - and _short_ as _hell_ \- pink dress hugging her curves.

That would do just fine for the evening.

But it wasn't until she pulled him out on the dance floor, as some stupid boy band song blared from the speakers, that he felt a tinge of guilt.

His friends were already at the dance, and he spotted Opie's hulking frame easily in the crowd. He had to chuckle a little at the sight of Opie with his arms wrapped around Dylan's waist - he almost had to crouch down just to reach her, and Jax half-expected Opie to just lift her up and plop her on top of his shoes to give her a little extra height.

But she looked so pretty though. So pretty his heart tugged and pulled tight in his chest. She'd worn her dark hair down, with some loose curls in it that made it kiss the tops of her collarbones. She was even wearing a little more makeup than usual too - he'd noticed that, over the years, she'd started to wear more makeup little by little. When they were 12, her eyelashes just looked darker than they did before. When they were 13, her skin was a little more evened out and more powdery. When they were 14, her lips were more sparkly and shiny, sometimes with glitter, sometimes not. When they were 15, her cheeks were a little more flushed and a little more defined. And now, all those things had been combined into the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.

Her sparkly sky blue dress was more conservative than his date's dress, that was for sure, but he liked it better. The straps were pretty thin, and the neckline dipped low on her chest, but not _too_ low, and the hem fell in a diagonal line, starting at her knees and hitting her in the calves. The cool tone of that dress seemed to reflect right off her skin, and he found himself staring, drawn in by everything he wanted, but couldn't have because she didn't want to give it to him.

She would always see him as her best friend, the one who knocked her around on the basketball court and wouldn't teach her how to drive stick, the one she laughed and joked around with, and the one who was always there for her when she needed him, and that was it.

So, he pulled Analise a little bit closer, wrapping his arms around the pink satin covering her body and wishing it was sky blue instead.

And when the song was over, and something faster and even more annoying than the last one started to blare from the speakers, he steered her over to the table where his friends were already congregating, knowing he couldn't exactly hang out with them for too long because of who he'd chosen to bring as his date to this stupid thing.

When Dylan's dark eyes flicked up from the table, and widened ever so slightly when she realized who he had his arm draped around, guilt rippled through him, splintering across his chest and pulling it tight.

But then she looked away, listening to something Opie was whispering in her ear, and that was that. She didn't care anymore. Just long enough to get a reaction, that wasn't much of a reaction at all, and he avoided Donna's lifted eyebrows as he stepped around the side of the table with Analise tucked underneath his shoulder like a trophy.

He clapped Cash on the shoulder with his free hand, and then Opie stood up from his seat to wrap him in a bro-hug to greet him. By now, the weed he'd smoked with Analise in his truck had him floating above this whole scene, watching it from up above, and even then, high as a literal kite, he knew he might've made a mistake in bringing Analise to the dance tonight.

But it was too late now. He was here, and she was under his arm, so he was just gonna go with it.

Jax glanced over at Dylan, who was watching him now with expressionless dark eyes, and he smirked at her, lifting the hand he had draped over Analise's chest to wave at her.

"'Sup, doll," he slurred a little bit, but only because his lips felt looser than they had when he left his truck…and then his eyes widened a little when he realized what he'd just said.

He hadn't meant to call her something so sacred _here_ , and _now_ , in front of all these people, and he felt Analise shift uncomfortably underneath his arm.

"Hey, Jax," Dylan smiled up at him. That pretty smile didn't reach her pretty dark eyes though. "You having a good time?"

"Sure," he grinned back, letting a smirk slip across the side of his face as he tucked Analise a little bit tighter into his side. "You?"

"Yeah, Ope's been fun to dance with."

Jax's gaze shifted to his friend, who narrowed his all-knowing eyes ever so slightly. "Great. Glad to hear it. You kids have fun tonight."

With that, he steered Analise away from their table, acutely aware that she had stiffened during that whole thing, and then he felt her hot breath on his neck and her voice in his ear.

"Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom. You wanna go with me?"

It took him a second to wade through the haziness in his brain so those words could catch up, but the second he got it, old habits kicked in, and he found himself smirking down at her.

"Sure, darlin'. Can't have you gettin' lost in there all by yourself."

Analise didn't hesitate, and this time, she took control as she steered him to the opposite side of the gym and out to the hallway where the closest bathrooms were located, glancing over her shoulder long enough to make sure the coast was clear before pulling him inside and pushing him into the furthest stall.

Her lips were on his mouth before he had a second to get his bearings, and she'd already backed him up against the wall with her hands working the buckle on his belt. He huffed out a laugh when she pulled his pants down to his ankles, taking his boxers with them, and he closed his eyes when her lips wrapped around him.

Then he just leaned back and enjoyed it. That's all this really was anyway - momentary relief. A few minutes of something that felt good, even if he knew it wouldn't last.

After a few minutes, Analise slipped him out of her mouth with a pop - and he was acutely aware that a few girls had just walked inside the bathroom, chattering away and none the wiser about what was happening at the far end of the bathroom.

Analise looked up at him from her knees, her lips curling up slyly as she whispered, "You got a condom, Jax?"

He just huffed out another cocky laugh. "What do you think, darlin'?"

When her eyebrows lifted suggestively, that was all the prompting he needed. He gripped her by the shoulders to set her back on her feet, whirling her around to press her against the wall and muffling her laugh with his mouth. Then it was just like clockwork, the way it always was between them. He'd hooked up with Analise enough times to know she liked it when he slid his hands up her skirt nice and slow, so he did that now. He also knew she liked it when he told her to take her panties off.

So, he kept his eyes on her, blocking out everything else, as he rolled the condom over himself, and murmured, "Take your panties off, darlin'. Put 'em in my pocket."

She did as she was told, and then he hooked one of her thighs around his waist, ignoring the way she was trying to look him in the eyes as he slipped inside her, and then he just let himself get lost in her body, taking that momentary relief he needed and he made sure to angle his hips just the way she liked it because fair was fair.

All this was, at least in his mind, was an even exchange.

And when it was over, that momentary relief was over too, and the guilt he'd pushed away before they came in here slipped down the back of his neck again and curled around his chest.

"Hey," Analise whispered to him, groping for both his attention and the front of his shirt to tug him closer. "I wanna be your girlfriend, Jax."

He huffed out a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets as he took a step back to smirk down at her, "Come on now, darlin'. We've been through this before."

"I know," she pouted a little. She clearly thought that would help her right now. It wasn't going to. "We hook up all the time, though, Jax. You're always at my house anyway. Why can't I just be your girlfriend and then we can do other things besides hook up?"

There was a lot in what she'd just said that he knew he should probably take a second to unpack, starting with the _we hook up all the time_ part. He hadn't realized that was the case, if it really was, because he tended to lose track anyways. But maybe he _did_ tend to gravitate toward Analise just because it was easy and the least amount of work for him as possible. She was always ready and willing, and by now, he'd done it enough times with her to know what would get her off quick and hard.

Still.

"I'm not lookin' for a girlfriend," he told her with an easy grin, and decided to throw her a bone by lifting a hand to her cheek. "You know that. If I wanted a girlfriend, I'd have one, darlin'."

"I know, I know, but you're gonna patch into the club in, like, two _years_ and…I don't know, if I was your girlfriend, then I could be your old lady, right?"

Now, he just couldn't help it. His shoulders started to shake with laughter, and he shook his head at her, rocking back on his heels as her crazy, delusional words washed over him again.

"I'm not gonna touch that one with a ten-foot pole," he laughed again, still shaking his head at her. "Come on, let's get the hell outta here before we get caught."

Then, despite her protests that they weren't done with that conversation - even though they most certainly _were_ \- he took her by the shoulders and steered her out of that bathroom stall, ignoring the three girls standing by the sinks, whose mouths were hanging open like trouts.

"Nothin' to see here, ladies," Jax smirked at them as he draped an arm around Analise's shoulders before swinging the bathroom door open, and then he threw them a wink, "You all look lovely, by the way."

The girls' laughter trailed after them all the way into the hallway.

* * *

_Six Days Later_

Jax glanced at the clock on his nightstand and swore under his breath, grabbing a Samcro hoodie and his keys, and took off out of his room. He still had a little bit more time before Opie was going to swing by and pick him up, but his nerves always got the best of him on game days.

It was a home game too, and that usually just set his nerves off even more - mainly because he knew home games always made _her_ a little more nervous too. There was always a bigger crowd of students at the home games - lazy pieces of shit usually didn't want to travel too far for the away games, even though their group of friends was always at every game - and the bigger the crowd, the more nervous she always got.

"Hey, Jax?" he heard his mother's voice calling out to him from the living room. "Your ride's here."

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. Ope usually wasn't this early, but he jogged around the corner of the hallway, only to skid to a stop.

Donna stood in the middle of his living room, arms crossed over her chest, and a big, fake smile on her face. Gemma, of course, was all over this situation like a fat kid on cake, and she was currently oohing and aahing over Donna's hair and her leather boots until they saw him skid into the room.

"Hey, Don," Jax told her, yanking an anxious hand through his overly long hair. "What's up? I thought Ope was driving tonight."

"I decided to drive," she just shrugged and took a step closer to him as her dark eyes glinted sharply.

Of course, none of their friends, save for Dylan, had cell phones, so this was news to him. The only reason Dylan had one of those big, bulky things was for traveling for basketball, but Dr. Shaw had maintained that Cash didn't need one if Dylan had one. And since Dylan had one, they all tended to borrow hers whenever they needed to make a call anyway.

He'd made the mistake of asking Gemma if she'd get him a phone only once - and she'd promptly informed him he'd be paying for that phone himself if he wanted one. And since all his T-M paychecks were going right into the bank so he could save up for that sweet Dyna Glide he had his eye on, a cell phone was _not_ more important than his bike fund. Besides, when he became a prospect in two years, he'd just get a prepay then anyway.

"And," Donna went on with a tight smile. "I decided to pick you up first because I wanted to talk to you about something."

She glanced at Gemma then, who obviously couldn't take a hint and stayed put.

"Oh," Jax shrugged. He shoved his hands deep inside his pockets, feeling a little like he was about to get yelled at by not one, but two girls, right here in his living room. "Okay. Hey, Ma, you think you could…?"

Gemma took one more look at Donna, who still hadn't moved from her spot on the carpet with her arms folded tightly across her chest and that taut, slightly angry smile on her face, and he knew Gemma wasn't budging.

"You know," his mother tilted her head to the side, regarding him with dark, shark-like eyes. "I have a feeling I might wanna hear this."

Donna's eyes drifted over to his mother again, and then she just shrugged. "Maybe you should," and then she sliced her gaze back at him, levelling him with a hard stare. "You've been a real asshole lately, Jax. And _someone_ has to call you out on it before it gets worse, and before something else happens."

Jax chose to just play this cool, rocking back on his heels, and lifted a shoulder. "Don't know what you're talkin' about, Don."

Now, she cocked a wary eyebrow at him before glancing at his mother, whose eyes had narrowed into dark slits from across the room.

"Okay, sure," Donna huffed out an incredulous laugh. "Let me bring you to speed, Jax. I'm talking about you and all this shit you've been pulling with Analise lately."

His lips parted to respond, but Gemma beat him to the punch: "What _shit_ has he been pulling?"

Donna hesitated for a moment, like she still hadn't decided just how much she was going to spill right in front of his mother, and then she blew out a heavy breath. "Why does it have to be _her_ , Jax? You could mess around with anyone you wanted at school - literally _anyone_. But you always have to pick _her_ , don't you?"

Well, that was pretty fucking rich, especially coming from her.

"You know what, Don?" he shot back. "I think you're the _last_ person who should be showin' up at people's houses and tellin' them who they should and shouldn't mess around with."

Donna swallowed hard, momentarily disarmed by that well-placed dig, and her eyes shifted nervously to Gemma, who just shrugged. Gemma already knew about all that drama anyway, at least the gist of it, so it's not like any of that was a surprise.

"This isn't about me," Donna told him, her voice quietly firm in a way that set him a little off-kilter. "This is about you and Dylan."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Gemma's eyebrows lift and her face turn to stone. His heart pounded in his chest then, because there _was_ no him and Dylan. They were friends, and that was the way she wanted it.

"You're _killing_ her, Jax," Donna murmured. "You're just _killing_ her. It's bad enough that we all had to hear about what you did with Analise at the dance -"

"Wait a minute," Gemma cut in sharply. "What exactly did he do at the dance with that blonde gash?"

Donna's eyes flicked to him, and she tipped her chin to him in defiance. "You wanna tell her, or should I?"

He just rolled his eyes to the ceiling. What the hell was the big deal anyway? None of this mattered, and none of this made any sense, and Donna clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

So, he just shrugged, and glanced at his mom, mumbling, "I hooked up with her in the bathroom."

"You didn't just hook up with her, Jax," Donna huffed at him. "You did a little bit more than that, didn't you? And then Analise blabbed about it to everyone at school on Monday, and now everyone's heard about it - _everyone_."

"So?"

"So," Donna frowned. "My point is that everytime she has to hear about you hooking up with someone, you're killing her, Jax. And you're doing it on purpose! You _know_ how she feels about Analise. You _know_ that, and you're messing around with her anyway, and you've been over at her house, what, almost every day this week since the dance? _Everyone_ knows about that, Jax. _Everyone."_

"I don't see what difference it makes to anyone."

Donna just shook her head at him. "You know what? You're as blind as you are stupid. Did you ever think about _why_ she hates Analise so much?"

"Why does Dylan hate Analise?" Gemma answered for him, slicing her eyes back to him like she was about ready to slap him in the face.

And now, Donna didn't hesitate. In fact, she just completely unleashed on him.

"Because Dylan takes one look at Analise, and sees everything she thinks you want - long blonde hair, legs for days, short cheerleading skirt, so pretty it hurts to look at her sometimes, so goddamn girly it's annoying…you know. Like that. And then Dylan takes one look at herself and doesn't see those things, and then she has to hear about you hooking up with Analise, and hear about you hooking up with her in the bathroom at the dance and then like, literally, every day this week since the dance - and now _everyone_ knows about it, and you're killing her, Jax. You're just _killing_ her."

Jax swallowed hard and he rubbed a hand over his mouth as all that washed over him, rocking against him in waves. He didn't dare a glance at his mother because he already knew exactly what he would find, but…none of this made any sense to him. Dylan didn't care what he did and who he did it with. She'd _told_ him that. Donna was obviously too wrapped up in her own drama to see anyone else's clearly.

"Well, you know what?" he shot back cockily. "Last I checked, I'm not doin' anything wrong here because Dylan's _not_ my fucking girlfriend."

"And whose fault is that?" Donna threw back at him. "God, you're such an idiot. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to come to terms with the fact that you're in love with her."

"Donna -" he growled, but she just shook her head, cutting him off and halting his words.

"No, just listen. You're in love with her. And I think you've been in love with her for a really long time, and you don't know what to do about it. That makes sense, I guess. But what you _don't_ do is purposely start hooking up with the one girl at school she hates the most. What are you trying to do, Jax? Get her attention?"

Donna paused there, like she was waiting to see if he'd actually answer her, and when he just stayed silent, his eyes on the floor, she shook her head.

"Well, if that's the case, Jax, then you got it - and that's a real shitty way of treating the person you love, you know that? And you know what else? All you gotta do is grow a goddamn pair. That's all you'd have to do, but you can't because you're an idiot, and you're just killing her at every turn because she thinks you don't want her that way because you've done nothing but prove her right."

He stumbled back a little, because the impact of those words just about knocked him off his feet. His head shook from side to side because none of that could be true. It just couldn't.

"But you know what else?" Donna went in a quiet, determined voice. "I think all this shit you've been pulling this week might've been the last straw for her, and she just might be done with you. I don't blame her 'cuz if I were her, I would've kicked your ass to the curb a long time ago."

"Jesus Christ," he heard Gemma mutter under her breath as she ran a hand through her hair.

Then Donna held her hands up in the air, shaking her head. "There. That's what I came here to say. Well - you know what? One more thing. There's that party tonight after the game - the one at Sam's house. Dylan said she was gonna go, and I'm gonna go with her. If _you_ were planning on going, you'd better show up alone and _stay_ alone or don't show up at all because you're just gonna make everything worse. There. That's it. I'm done now."

He felt his lips curl back into a defiant snarl as he rocked back on his heels again. "Good. Glad you were able to say your peace, Don. I'm not sure who made you the fucking morality police, but maybe you should get your ass off your high horse now and stop leadin' my friends around by their dicks, and I don't know, maybe finally make a choice? Or, _I_ know," he wagged a finger at her as he spoke, "I think you _like_ having both of them at your beck and call, don't ya? And I think you like the fact that you've got _two_ guys willin' to bend over backwards for you. Why would you choose when you can have them both?"

"Screw you, Jax," Donna shot back. "I came over here to try to talk some sense into you, but I see now that I probably just made it worse. And you know what? Find your own goddamn ride to the game 'cuz you're not getting in my car tonight."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed toward the front door.

"Good!" Jax called after her. "I didn't wanna be anywhere near your fucked-up love triangle tonight anyway!"

When the front door slammed shut, he found himself staring back at it for a lot of reasons, the main one being that he didn't exactly want to have to face his mother right now.

"Jackson."

He winced at the sharp tone in her voice, biting back a shudder at the coldness reverberating in it too.

"Jackson."

Her voice was more impatient this time, more on edge than it was before, and he knew he had about a half a second before her hands were going to be on him, whirling him around to face her. So, he did it for her, spinning around on his heel, and found her staring at him with the kind of disappointment he'd never seen on her face before.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, but he still couldn't look at her.

"You know," Gemma called out to him again. This time, her voice was a little bit softer. "A lot of what Donna said just now sounded kinda familiar, didn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

Gemma just blew out an agitated breath, moving closer until she could rest a hand on his arm. "I know you wanna follow in your dad's footsteps with the club, and you _will_ , but there are some things about John that you gotta see with clear eyes, Jax."

When Jax just dropped his gaze to the floor, Gemma squeezed his arm and soldiered on.

"I know you know about…" she trailed off with another heavy sigh.

"All the croweaters he was screwing in front of you?" Jax offered with a sad smile.

"Yeah," she nodded with her own sad smile. "And I gotta say, Jax, it sounds to me like the shit John pulled with me is the same shit you're pullin' with Dylan."

His lips parted to protest, but she cut him off.

"You think you're not gettin' what you want from her - not that you even seem to _know_ what you want, but that's not the point. And so you're lashing out and you're doing it in a way that causes her the most pain, aren't you? Whether or not Donna was right about all those other things she just said, she was absolutely right about one thing - you're hurting Dylan. And you're doing it _on purpose_. And I think, deep down, you know why, and deep down, you know why you purposely choose that stupid blonde gash when you could pick anyone else at that school."

When his lips parted again, she pointed a finger at him to shush him.

"And you know what else, Jackson? If you wanna screw around like that, it's one thing to do it in the clubhouse. That's your home, and those are your people. But it's a whole _other_ thing to do it in the bathroom at a school dance, okay? That was an asshole move, and you know it. I can't imagine how much that had to have hurt her."

He stumbled back a little bit again, pushing down the stinging in his eyes. "I didn't…I didn't mean to."

"Oh, baby," Gemma tilted her head to the side as she tapped her fingers to his cheek. "I know you didn't. But you did. You _are_. And you gotta figure out what you're gonna do about it because you two can't keep going on like this. There are so many things about your father that I see in you, Jackson, so many _good_ things - your sense of humor, your smartass comebacks, your intelligence…but _this_ …this is one thing I don't wanna see. This is one thing you gotta do better than he ever did, okay?"

She reached out to grip his arm, to make him see.

"And I think you better get your shit together sooner rather than later because it sounds to me like that girl just might write you out of her life if you're not careful. And it sounds to me like you just might deserve it. I know that's the opposite of what you really want, Jax, so you'd better find a way to make it right before it's too late."

And so, she left him standing there in the living room with his hands in his pockets, his heart in his throat, and his stomach on the floor.

He swallowed hard, glancing out the window to see Donna's car drive down the street again, probably with Ope and Cash in it, leaving him to find his own way to the game.

That was fine. He could just walk.

He had a lot to think about anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - All this teenage angst, right? And it's not even close to being done yet, lol! They've got a long ways to go, and we've got a little bit here before we get back to the "present" time too.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this first look at their teenage years! Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter Four

_ October 2001  
_ _ Sixteen Years Old _

_ Some boys take a beautiful girl  
_ _ And hide her away from the rest of the world  
_ _ I want to be the one to walk in the sun  
_ _ -Cyndi Lauper _

Dylan’s eyes flew to the scoreboard at the sound of the buzzer. Down five, two minutes left in the quarter, and it was Lodi’s ball. She crouched down in a defensive stance at the center line, ready and waiting for her girl to cross over into her territory. From above the noise of the crowd, she could hear him yelling from the very top of the student section, where they always sat at her games.

“Come on, Dylan! You got this!”

Just the sound of his voice sent something dark and twisted down her spine. Oh, so she was  _ Dylan _ now for some reason? All of a sudden he’d decided she was a girl and needed to be treated as such? She gritted her teeth, bearing down on all this aggression running through her like a freight train, and she could feel it sliding into the driver’s seat, charging full steam ahead beyond her control.

In a flash, she lurched forward, batting the ball out of the point guard’s hand, and charged down the opposite end of the court - with his cheering and whistling echoing in her ear - and that was just enough of a distraction, so that what should’ve been an easy lay-up turned into an embarrassing whiff, making the crowd groan in disappointment.

The Lodi point guard was right on her heels and snatched the ball up when it bounced off the backboard, lobbing it to the teammate behind her, and then the ball was flying up the opposite end of the court again. And when Lodi scored an easy two-pointer, putting them up seven now, Coach called a timeout.

As Dylan jogged over to her team’s bench, her eyes flicked over to the student section, landing right on the smug blonde cheerleader on the floor. Analise lifted her stupid eyebrows, and then jutted her bottom lip out in a faux-pout as if to say,  _ Aw, too bad, so sad. _

Dylan gritted her teeth, choosing instead to follow her coach, who was waving the team over into a huddle. He clapped a hand on Dylan’s shoulder and gave it a little shake.

“Get your head in the game, Shaw,” Coach told her with a cocked eyebrow. “That lay-up shoulda been yours, and you gotta get the next one.  _ Focus _ now.”

“I know, Coach,” she nodded, dropping her hands on her knees to take a break and catch her breath. “I got it.”

He shot her a tight nod before turning to the rest of the team to bark out the next play. When the whistle blew again, Dylan jogged over to the side of the court, holding out her hands to get the ball and bring it back up the court. She dribbled into Charming territory, tossing the ball to her open right guard, and then took off down the other end of the paint to run the play she could do in her sleep - down the end to set a pick on the forward’s defense player, giving the forward the chance to pop out, catch the pass coming her way, and toss the ball through the net for an easy two points.

The student section roared for their team, jumping up and down on the bleachers like they always did after their team scored, and Dylan glanced up to see her friends high-fiving each other and jumping up and down right along with everyone else.

That didn’t make her feel any better. 

Her eyes flicked to the scoreboard again. Still down five, only a minute thirty left of the quarter, and then that was it.

So, she got down in her defense stance, eyes on the ball, waiting for the right moment, and then she batted the ball out of her girl’s hands again, just like she had two plays ago. Then she flew down the court again, and she could still hear him cheering,  _ Go, Dylan, go! _

Only this time, it spurred her on and helped the ball sail through the net, like it should’ve the last time.

Again, the student section roared and pounded its feet against the bleachers, and Dylan glanced up again to find Jax on his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell,  _ Woo! Yeah, Dylan! _

Her lips curled at the corners as he lifted his hands high above his head, clapping and yelling, and then, just as she put one foot in front of the other, another foot jutted out in front of her, colliding with her and sending her flying, knees-first into the court. Dylan cried out as her knee hit the ground, and she rolled once, hugging it to her chest, and when she opened her eyes again, she found Analise’s smug face staring down at her.

“ _ Oops _ ,” she pouted. “Looks like someone needs to learn how to walk before they can run.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, but she didn’t get a chance to react because one of her teammates was already reaching down to haul her back up to her feet. She hopped on her good knee, testing out the bad one, and just walked it off, shaking her head and gritting her teeth.

That old familiar aggression slipped around her and squeezed tight, and she glanced up at the student section again, finding Jax’s ocean blue eyes right on her, and a deep frown slicing across his forehead. His eyes flew down to Analise, who was still positioned right in the middle of the cheerleaders, hogging center stage and the attention as usual, and she waved to him before blowing him an air kiss and kicking her right leg all the way up above her head.

That didn’t do anything but deepen the frown on his face, and he sank down onto the bleacher bench behind him with his elbows on his knees, as if he was trying to take himself out of the equation and putting himself out of the line of fire.

And all that did was piss her off even more. All that did was swirl the aggression already churning through her, and the violence and this out-of-control feeling surging through her just took over.

The next few plays flew by in a flash, and she charged ahead, seeing only flashes of red and white and black, with blurred vision dancing around her head - and she felt herself reaching, out of control, unable to stop herself, as she pushed a Lodi player from behind.

A whistle blared off a second later, and she heard a ref call out: “Technical foul! Number 23 - unsportsmanlike conduct.”

“Dammit, Shaw!” she heard Coach yell from somewhere to her right.

As the Lodi player lined up at the free throw line to take her shots, her coach pointed at Dylan and waved her over to their bench, and then pointed to an empty seat.

“Sit down,” he growled to her. “Cool off.”

Dylan sank down into the empty chair with a heavy sigh and dropped her head into her hands. They were going to lose this game because she’d lost her cool and her control, and because she couldn’t  _ focus _ . This was all her fault.

When she unearthed her head from her hands, her eyes flew back up to the student section like they had a mind of their own. Jax still hadn’t moved from where he sat on the bleachers, his elbows still rooted deep into his knees, hands folded in between them, and a disturbed frown creasing his forehead. He bit down on his bottom lip, and from what she could tell, looked a little bit like he was going to jump back up to his feet again.

To do what - she had no idea. She didn’t care either. She didn’t give a shit what he did anymore and who he did it with.

The game ended on a whimper, with her team still behind and Dylan still riding the bench when the clock ran out.

They’d officially lost the game. And that was her fault.

She didn’t let herself look back at the student section again, narrowly avoiding the cheerleaders too, as the two teams walked the line to tell each other  _ good game _ and then she headed for the locker room to get the hell out of that gym. She sat through Coach’s speech, in which he stressed the importance of  _ focus  _ and  _ control  _ out on the court if they ever wanted to win another game, and Dylan squeezed her eyes shut.

Coach might as well have called her out in front of the whole team - or the whole school for that matter. Everyone knew he was really talking to her anyway.

After that particular humiliation was over, she yanked her jersey over her head and slammed it into the bench next to her - it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming her damn head off. Now, she just wanted out of this stupid locker room so she could hop in Donna’s car and go to Sam’s party. She had a plan, and she was going to see it through to the end tonight if it killed her.

“Too bad about the game,” a shrill, bitchy voice called out from behind her. “Must really suck to be such a loser.”

“Fuck you,” Dylan bit out from over her shoulder.

Analise scoffed, and Dylan could hear her moving closer but she kept her back to Analise, not wanting to give her another victory tonight or any night.

“ _ Excuse _ me? What did you just say to me?”

Dylan just shook her head, refusing to look at her. “You heard me. Now back off and leave me alone.”

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Pretty sure I can do whatever I want,  _ Malibu _ .”

She heard Analise huff again, and could practically see her with her hands on her hips and an ugly scowl on her pretty face, but Dylan still couldn’t bring herself to look at her.

“Hey there, little  _ boy _ , where the hell do you get off talkin’ to me like that?”

When Dylan  _ still  _ didn’t respond, Analise just wouldn’t live and let die. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, you little bitch.”

“Don’t call me a bitch,  _ Malibu _ ,” Dylan shot back from over her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure there’s only one of those in this locker room right now and that’s  _ you _ .”

Suddenly, sharp nails yanked Dylan’s short ponytail back, making her neck jerk back too, and  _ then  _ she reacted, whipping around with her fist cocked, and then she sent that fist flying right into the blonde bitch’s nose. Blood spurted out from Analise’s nose, and her hands flew up to cover it, catching only a little of the blood that dripped onto her pristine red and white cheerleading uniform.

“What the fuck!” Analise screamed. “You bitch!”

In a flash, Analise was on her, shoving her back against the nearest locker. And then, what little control Dylan still had was gone, and she lashed out, gripping Analise by the shoulders to tackle her to the ground. They rolled once, until Dylan had the bitch straddled, and she got in one more good punch before she was pulled away by the female trainer, even if she had to be pulled away kicking and screaming.

About 20 minutes later, Dylan found herself sitting in the athletic director’s office with an ice pack on her knuckles, sitting next to Analise, who held her own ice pack to her bloodied nose, with her coach and the cheerleading coach perched directly behind them.

“Ladies,” the athletic director stated in a calm, even voice. “This kind of behavior is not acceptable anywhere, and it’s  _ especially  _ not acceptable on school grounds, when you’re both here representing your school. Now, someone needs to tell me what happened here.”

Dylan shifted uncomfortably in her chair and stiffened when her coach’s hand dropped to her shoulder to prompt her to spill it. But she wasn’t a rat, and she wasn’t gonna be the one to break first.

True to form, Analise jumped to throw her under the bus. Not like she was all that surprised…

“She told me to eff off,” Analise gestured to Dylan with her free hand, still holding the ice to her nose, probably to make her look that much more like a victim. “And then when I told her not to talk to me like that, she punched me in the face. And then when I defended myself, she punched me again.”

Dylan’s head whipped to the side in a rage. “That’s not what happened and you know it!”

“Well,  _ Dylan,”  _ Analise shot back snidely. “Some of us aren’t trashy girls who throw punches because they lost.”

“Who you calling  _ trashy _ , Malibu?” she felt her coach’s hand squeeze her shoulder in warning, but she just shrugged him off. “With the way you flaunt your shit around school, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up riding a stripper pole the day after graduation.”

“What the -” Analise started to protest, just as the adults in the room stirred to life to put an end to all this.

“You’ve had your legs wrapped around every other pole in this school already,” Dylan threw out. “A stripper pole would be a nice change of pace, wouldn’t it?”

“Shaw!” Coach chided behind her. “Watch your language! I can’t  _ believe _ you just said that to this girl.”

Analise just stared her down, with fire shooting out of her eyes and steam pouring out of her ears. By now, the adults were finally doing their jobs, intervening to keep the girls separated, and to make sure another fight didn’t break out right here in this office.

“I wanna see both you ladies in the principal’s office first thing Monday morning,” the athletic director told them before he dismissed them. “And if you’re not there, I’m gonna drag you outta your first period and march you down there myself.”

Dylan’s coach steered her out of the room, shaking his head and muttering under his breath about how disappointed he was in her, and how they were going to have to sit down with her dad and talk about all this as soon as they could, and Dylan was barely cognizant of the fact that Analise and her coach were headed in the opposite direction.

And then she saw Analise’s blonde head take off into the small crowd that had formed outside the athletic director’s office, followed by her shrill voice, “Oh my God, did you hear what happened? Look what she did to my face, Jax!”

So, apparently Jax, and most likely the rest of her friends, were part of the small crowd who’d congregated outside the athletic director’s office to find out what was going on.

Whatever.

At this point, she was just lucky her dad had a late shift tonight and hadn’t been able to make it to the game. She was really on borrowed time right now, though, because she was positive the athletic director was already on the phone with her dad. And that meant she’d probably be grounded for the rest of her natural born life.

Well, if that was the case, at least she’d gone out swinging - literally - and it had been worth it. Feeling her fist crunch into Analise’s smug face had been the catharsis she hadn’t known she was looking for, and now that she’d found it, she had half a mind to punch that smug smile off Analise’s face again the next time she saw her.

Thankfully, though, she felt Donna’s hand close around her elbow to pull her over and steer her toward the commons’ double doors so they could make a quick exit. Opie and Cash were right on their heels, and she was grateful no one said anything to her, at least not right away, while they made a run for it.

“Hey, wait up!” an achingly familiar deep voice called out to her.

Against her better judgment, Dylan turned her head to see Jax jogging after them, his gorgeous face lined with worry and some agitation too. Well, it looked like he’d managed to pull himself away from his bitch of a girlfriend to honor them all with his presence.

Awesome.

“Hey,” Jax huffed out a little breathlessly when he caught up to her, and gestured to the ice pack on her hand. “What the hell happened? You okay?”

She held up her ice with sarcasm seeping out of her pores. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

Jax grimaced at that, and the worry still hadn’t left the crease in his forehead. “What happened, Dylan?”

“What difference does it make to you?”

He frowned down at her, and his eyes shifted over her head to Donna, whose jaw was set in a tight line. Even Opie and Cash kept their silence and their distance as they walked into the parking lot toward Donna’s car. Jax kept his position next to her, with Donna flanking her other side, almost as if they were trying to act as some kind of human shield from the parking lot to the car.

“Hey, Don, you think I can hitch a ride with you now?” Jax’s quiet voice lifting up above her head.

Donna glanced at Dylan, almost as if she was asking for permission, and Dylan just shrugged. She was long past the point of caring about anything anymore. When her phone buzzed in her Nike basketball bag, she pushed out a heavy sigh, acutely aware that all of Jax’s attention was focused squarely on her right now too.

She winced when she saw her dad’s office number at the hospital calling, and she answered it just as they stepped up to Donna’s car. Cash slid into the passenger seat, even as Donna protested, telling him that Dylan was going to sit in the front, but since Cash and Donna were hooking up again now, he obviously thought he had some sort of claim to the front seat.

By the time she got off the phone with her dad, in which he proceeded to tell her how disappointed he was, and how she was grounded for at least the next month for her behavior, and how they were going to have a long discussion about this tomorrow morning when he got home from the hospital, the only spot left in Donna’s car was the right side of the backseat. Opie had taken the far end, leaving Jax in the middle, which meant that in order for her to get a ride home, she’d need to suck it up and slide into the backseat next to him.

Whatever. None of this made any difference in any of her plans tonight. She just had to get home so she could change into the dress she’d picked out for the party, and then she could go to the party with Donna just like she’d planned. No one knew her plan, of course, but she didn’t feel like she needed to tell anyone, especially if they would just try to talk her out of it. She’d made up her mind, and that was it.

“What happened, Dylan?” Jax murmured next to her, and she found herself leaning in closer to the window to put some more space in between them.

“Your girlfriend decided to mess with me and pulled my hair,” Dylan informed him flatly, but she kept her eyes focused on the window. “So I punched her in the face. When she pushed me into the lockers, I punched her again.”

Now, Cash shifted against the passenger seat to regard her with pride glinting in his eyes. “Sounds like the bitch got exactly what she deserved.”

“Fuck yeah,” Opie nodded in solidarity, reaching across Jax with his fist extended so they could fist bump.

“Yeah, but my dad said I’m grounded for a month, so there’s that.”

Donna’s eyes flew to her from the rearview mirror. “What about the party then?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she just shrugged. “He’s not gonna be home, and I already told him I was staying at your house tonight anyway. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

Now, she felt Jax’s eyes on her, and he swallowed hard, leaning in a touch closer so he could murmur in her ear, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, and kept her eyes out the window and far away from him.

He was the last person she wanted to see right now, and here she was, crammed into Donna’s backseat with her right thigh pressed into his left one, and it burned. It just fucking  _ burned.  _ She hated being this close to him, hated feeling him against her and knowing that every other girl at school had felt this same thing - but better and worse at the exact same time. 

None of that mattered anyway.

And if he was smart, he’d just leave her alone and stay away from the party tonight.

* * *

_ Two Hours Later _

“So, Justin,” Dylan smiled at him, and then swirled her red solo cup around in her hand. She’d barely taken a sip from it, but he didn’t need to know that. “I really like your sweatshirt.”

She didn’t  _ really  _ like his sweatshirt. It was just a plain blue Jansport one with a hoodie. Big deal. But she also didn’t know the first thing about how to get a guy’s attention -  _ clearly _ \- and she was just grasping at straws.

Justin, to his credit, just glanced down at his attire and shrugged. “Hey, thanks. I like it too.”

“Did you finish that project in Econ?”

Dylan winced the second those words left her lips. God, she was so bad at this. Why did it have to be  _ so  _ hard? Certain other people had zero problems doing this, and doing it as often as they wanted with whoever they wanted, so she didn’t see why it had to be so hard for her now. At that thought, she glanced around the living room, looking for a certain blonde head, and still didn’t see him.

Good.

Maybe he was actually going to listen to Donna and stay away tonight.

“Uh,” Justin frowned at her. “You wanna talk about Econ right now?”

“No, I really don’t,” Dylan pressed a quick smile on her face and leaned in a little bit closer to him so she could put a hand on his chest. She hoped it felt flirtatious to him - it didn’t really  _ feel _ flirtatious to her, but she was trying. Goddammit, she was  _ trying _ .

And then, because she just didn’t know what else to do, she just went for it. “Hey, do you wanna…I don’t know, go somewhere we can really  _ talk _ , you know?”

She hoped he realized that  _ talk  _ was code for something else, and it took him maybe a beat too long, but he got it eventually. Realization washed over his face, and she felt a pang of disappointment, followed by a slice of guilt. Justin was cute and all, with his wavy brown hair and dimples, but he wasn’t gorgeous the way certain other people were. He didn’t make her feel the way certain other people did either.

But it didn’t make any difference anyway because she’d already made up her mind.

So, she took Justin by the hand and started leading him down the hallway. She paused just long enough when she passed Donna to lean in to murmur, “Don’t worry. I’m just gonna go make out with him for a little while or something.”

_ Or something _ was more accurate to her plans, but Donna wouldn’t let her go if she knew that. And like she suspected, Donna just grinned back at her with a little bit of pride in her eyes too - if Dylan was just going to go make out with Justin for a while, what was the harm in that, right? She glanced around the room one more time just to make sure he really wasn’t there, and then she pushed open one of the bedroom doors, only to find that there was another couple on the bed already, and shut it immediately.

“Oops,” she laughed and ran a slightly trembling hand through her hair. “My bad. Maybe we’ll get the next one.”

“Right, right,” Justin laughed with her before resting both hands on her shoulders to give them a playful little shake.

It took another try, but she finally found an empty room. When Justin shut the door behind him, she decided to just get this over with, and reached behind her for the zipper on her black dress.

“Whoa, whoa,” Justin’s eyes had widened the size of saucers, both hands out in front of him as if that would somehow stop her from taking off her dress. “Hold up a second. I don’t…I thought we were just gonna make out or somethin’ in here.”

“I don’t wanna make out,” she told him frankly. If she was going to get what she wanted tonight, she’d just have to go get it herself. “I wanna have sex.”

Her hands drifted back up to her zipper, and she pulled it down, shrugging out of the straps and exposing her black strapless bra. She had half a mind to reach out to cover her breasts, but this wasn’t any different than a swimsuit, right? And what difference did it make anyway - she’d have to take her clothes off to get what she wanted, and this was just a means to an end.

Now, Justin’s face had turned a little bit pale, and he took a small step back. “I don’t know, Dylan…I don’t really feel like getting my ass kicked anytime soon. I mean, I’d like to at least live to see graduation, ya know?”

“What are you talking about? Nobody’s gonna kick your ass.”

Justin’s eyes just about fell out of his head. “Are you serious? If Teller finds out about this, he’ll beat me to a fucking pulp!”

Dylan gritted her teeth at his name, and hated Justin a little bit right now for the reminder that he even existed. And he was wrong anyway. Dead wrong.

“I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want,” Dylan tilted her head to the side, trying to look sexy, trying to look flirtatious, and probably failing miserably. “He doesn’t own me, and neither do you.”

“Yeah, but he’ll kill me. He’ll  _ literally _ kill me. He’ll get some of those guys from Samcro to help him get rid of my body - I just know it. They do that kinda shit all the time, and Teller won’t hesitate when he finds out.”

“He won’t find out if you don’t tell anyone about this. I know I won’t,” Dylan informed him as she pulled her dress down to her ankles and stepped out of it. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care what I do and who I do it with.”

Her heart was thundering away in her chest as she stood in front of him in just her bra and underwear. She’d never stood in front of a boy in her bra and underwear before. She’d never done anything with a boy that even slightly resembled anything close to this.

“I don’t know about that,” Justin replied, running an anxious hand through his wavy brown hair. “You obviously don’t know that he -”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Justin. Do  _ you _ have a girlfriend right now?” she paused long enough to see him shake his head. “So, do you wanna have sex or not?”

Justin’s eyes nearly fell out his head again when she hopped up onto the bed. And then that seemed to be all the convincing he needed, and he yanked his shirt up over his head, stumbling over to the bed so he could get on top of her. His lips collided with hers, and she froze at the contact - this was the first time she’d ever felt a boy’s lips on hers, and she wasn’t so sure she liked it. Justin tasted like beer and mint, and that combination didn’t taste very good either. His lips moved over hers awkwardly and a little sloppily too, almost like he wasn’t really sure what he was doing here either, which made her feel a  _ little _ better, and then his hands flew to his jeans so he could unbutton them and push them down.

“You have a condom, right?” she heard herself ask him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured against her lips. “‘Course I do. You sure you wanna do this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She’d never been more sure and more terrified of anything in her life, but here she was. She’d come this far, and it felt like there was just no going back. Now that she was  _ this close  _ to getting what she wanted, she let him pull her underwear down, making sure to keep her bra on though, and let him fall in between her legs. Then she glanced down long enough to see him rip a condom wrapper open and take it out of the package before squeezing her eyes shut. She really didn’t want to see any more of him if she could help it, and she was ready to just get this over with.

Then she felt a burning, and a stinging, as her body stretched around him, and she winced from the impact, sucking in a sharp breath when that burning just wouldn’t subside. Was it supposed to  _ hurt  _ this much? She thought it was supposed to feel at least a little good, or no girls would ever agree to do this, but it didn’t feel good  _ at all _ . He was moving on top of her now with jerky, staccato rhythms, and Dylan found herself leaning her face away so he couldn’t kiss her anymore, and still wincing through the rest of it until he groaned once and then stiffened on top of her. At least the whole thing had only lasted about 60 seconds.

He leaned down to press a kiss into her mouth, and she found herself wincing again when he rolled off her with a big, stupid grin on his face.

“Wow,” Justin exhaled. “That was great. That was  _ fucking  _ great,” and then he glanced over at her, “Did you come?”

“What?” she frowned back at him. “How could I have…” but then she stopped herself from finishing that sentence. There was really no point in dragging this out any further or making this any more awkward than it already was.

“Hey,” Justin propped himself up on his elbow, watching her as she pulled her underwear back on, and then made quick work of getting her dress on too. “Do you wanna…I don’t know, go out sometime? We could go see a movie or something?”

Dylan glanced up at him with a placating smile. “No, I don’t really wanna do that. Thanks for asking though.”

“So…” Justin shot up from the bed, scrambling to get his own clothes back on now too. “What was this? Just, like, a hook-up for you or something? You could be my girlfriend, you know, if you wanted.”

Her eyebrows lifted as she reached around her back to zip up her dress. “Thanks, Justin. But I’m not looking to be your girlfriend, okay? This was just sex, and now it’s over, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”

He was still frowning back at her, his mouth opening and closing like he just didn’t know what to do and just didn’t know what to say, and then she closed the door behind her, tiptoeing down the hallway and hoping that no one saw her leave.

There was a dull ache between her legs that she didn’t like. And she didn’t really feel the way she thought she would feel when it was all said and done. She thought she’d feel…a sense of victory, maybe? A sense of accomplishment or some kind of seismic shift in her world because now, her world also included sex.

But she didn’t really feel any of those things. And it wasn’t like sex had turned out to be anything to write home about. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t  _ that. _

She just felt numb. And now she wanted to numb herself a little bit more if she could manage it.

Luckily enough for her, the party was still in full swing, and because everyone was too busy getting drunk, no one seemed to notice that she’d even left, or who she’d left with. And that lasted right up until she stepped up to the keg with a new red solo cup in her hand, and felt a hand wrap around her elbow to pull her back. She turned her head, even though she had a bad feeling she already knew who that hand belonged to, and sure enough, Jax’s ocean blue eyes shone back at her with new worry and concern.

“Hey,” he murmured to her, leaning in so she could hear him through the crowd. “Where you been? I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.”

“I was in the bathroom,” she lied, and her heart clenched tight. “There was a pretty long line.”

“Oh, okay,” Jax nodded, but his eyes didn’t look any less worried than they did before. “Can we…do you wanna go for a walk or somethin’? I really need to talk to you.”

Dylan stared back at him for a beat as she considered her options. But deep down, she just didn’t want to bend to his beck and call anymore. Just because he wanted to talk to her didn’t mean she had to leave the party. She didn’t have to do anything he wanted her to, not anymore - she’d proven that to herself tonight.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” she deflected with a shrug.

He pushed out a rough breath, and raked a hand through his blonde hair, his eyes still on her. “I wasn’t going to…I thought maybe you needed some space after what happened at the game, but I just really need to talk to you, okay? Please?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really need to talk to  _ you _ right now.”

She turned on her heel then to finish filling up her cup, and when she turned back around, he was still standing there. And it was then that his eyes flicked down to her attire, and they widened just enough to let her know she’d made the right choice in her dress tonight.

“What are you wearing?” Jax pushed out, his eyes dropping again to the exposed skin on her thighs before sliding all the way up to her bare shoulders. He’d never seen this much of her skin like this before because she’d never shown it to him, or anyone for that matter, until tonight. Even at school dances, her dresses always hit right at her knees because that was what she’d been most comfortable with.

Dylan glanced down at her short, tight dress and shrugged. “What does it look like?”

Now, the frown etched across his face only deepened, and before she really knew what was happening, he yanked his black Samcro hoodie over his head and pushed it into her chest. “Here - put this on.”

She just rolled her eyes, swatting the sweatshirt away as she brought her red solo cup up to her mouth. Ugh. Beer just didn’t taste good. She’d had a few from time to time, but that was always either at Opie’s or Jax’s house, when home was always within walking distance, and when she’d had the safety and comfort of being surrounded by her group of friends. But this, what she was doing now…it felt dangerous. It  _ all  _ felt dangerous, and she wasn’t sure if she liked the way it felt.

“Dylan, can you just give me a minute?”

The thing was, he’d  _ had  _ a minute already. He’d had so  _ many  _ minutes. He’d had  _ years _ . And now all of a sudden he had to go and ruin her night just because he wanted to talk to her  _ right now _ and couldn’t wait?

Forget that.

“If you wanna talk to someone so bad, why don’t you go find your girlfriend, Jax?” she shot back, gesturing with her head beyond them, where Analise was huddled in a corner with a couple of her cheerleader friends, whispering and looking over at them. “She’s right over there. I’m sure she’d just love to talk to you right now.”

Jax pushed out a rough exhale, his eyes never once leaving hers and never once drifting over to the small group of cheerleaders nearby. Then he surprised her by leaning in so close she could smell the musk of his cologne, and the mint on his breath, and all that momentarily set her off-balance. He’d never gotten quite this close to her before, at least not like this, when he seemed to have some other motivation other than friendship.

“She is  _ not  _ my girlfriend, Dylan,” he murmured in her ear. “I get why you think that, and that’s my fault. I  _ know _ that. But she’s not my girlfriend and I don’t want her to be.”

She sucked in a harsh breath when his hand brushed the side of her hip to pull her in a little bit closer, and she found herself staring up at him as he towered over her, and feeling that control slip right through her fingertips again.

“Why are you calling me by my name all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know,” his lips curved into a smile that made her thighs squeeze together.

“I don’t wanna do this with you right now, Jax.”

He nodded tightly before holding out his sweatshirt again, and he didn’t give up when she just swatted it away again. “I get that. I deserve that. But…seriously, do you really wanna stay at this party? Are you having a good time? ‘Cuz if you wanna stay, we can stay. If you wanna leave, I’d really like to make sure you get home okay.”

She’d only lied to him a handful times in the entire time she’d known him, and a few of those times had been just now. The guilt from those couple of lies was already threatening to pull her underwater. He was still her best friend, still the one she wanted to be around all the time. She  _ hated  _ that she didn’t want to be around him right now - he was just making it  _ so  _ hard. This entire week, she’d had to listen to story after story about him going to Analise’s house to hook-up, not to mention story after story about their little romp in the bathroom at the dance, which had apparently happened literally right after he talked to her at their table.

And every time, it was all she could do not to run to the nearest bathroom and cry her eyes out. It was just all too much, like he was rubbing it in her face or something, and while it would be easy to lash out and tell him exactly where she’d just been and what she’d just been doing, that wasn’t really what she wanted.

She didn’t want to hurt Jax. She’d just wanted to forget him. And that, it seemed, was easier said than done.

“I’m sleeping at Donna’s house tonight.”

“Okay,” he nodded easily. “Then I’ll make sure you get to Donna’s house.”

“You know, Jax, you’re right,” she admitted, unable to bring herself to lie to him again. He knew her too well. If she said she actually wanted to stay at this party, he’d never believe her. Besides, she’d already done what she came here for anyway. “I’m not really having fun, and I don’t wanna stay. But that doesn’t mean I wanna go anywhere with  _ you _ .”

He stumbled back a little, like the impact of her words had literally pushed him back and away from her. And then, determination crossed his achingly gorgeous face, and then he was moving toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her in tight against his chest. She froze at the contact - she couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually  _ hugged  _ her. Definitely not since middle school. And she found herself squeezing her eyes shut, reveling in being this close to him - maybe in a way she’d always wanted to be close to him - and then she felt his breath on her ear.

“I’m sorry for everything, doll,” he whispered in her ear. “I know I fucked up. I didn’t mean to…and I know you’re not gonna be able to forgive me right away. I’m not so sure I even  _ want  _ you to forgive me right away because I don’t deserve that. But if you’d just give me a shot - just  _ one  _ shot - I wanna earn it, okay? And I wanna prove to you that the only girl I want is the one that’s standing right in front of me.”

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his lips on her cheek. He was doing this in front of everyone, where everyone could  _ see _ , like he was making sure  _ everyone  _ at this party knew it too.

And she knew she’d made a horrible mistake tonight. 

The worst kind of mistake.

The kind of mistake she wouldn’t be able to take back.

“I wanted it to be you,” she heard herself whisper to him.

He pulled away for a moment, his blue eyes shining down at her with some confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she just lifted her shoulder as his arms loosened around her and then he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe it’s too late, Jax.”

The guilt squeezing her was almost too much to bear. He hadn’t made things better this last week, and she’d only made them worse tonight. That didn’t make them even.

She’d thought she’d been trying to prove to herself tonight that Jax didn’t matter. That she didn’t need him because he didn’t need her. That she could do what she wanted whenever she wanted with whoever she wanted because that’s exactly what he did. That he didn’t own her, and he certainly didn’t control her. But now that he was standing here, looking at her the way she’d always wanted him to look at her, she realized…maybe he’d  _ always  _ looked at her this way.

His breath kissed her ear again, and his fingertips slipped around her waist again. “It’s not too late, doll. Just give me a shot, okay?”

As if her body had a mind of its own, she felt herself nod against his shoulder. Then he pulled away again, his eyes shining down at her with hope and determination as his lips slipped to the side of his mouth in the kind of smirk she’d always seen him give other girls, but not  _ her _ …but, now that she was really seeing it, now that she was really looking, maybe he  _ had  _ always smiled at her this way. 

She’d just never recognized what it was until now. Had it always been there and she’d just never let herself see it? Maybe she’d never known what to look for in the first place.

“I think I’m gonna hang around, if that’s okay with you,” he murmured. “I’ll keep my distance because I know that’s what you need right now, and that’s okay. But when you and Don are ready to go, can I please make sure you guys get to her house okay? I’ve got my truck here and there’s plenty of room for both of you.”

She found herself nodding again, and she squeezed her eyes shut when his hand brushed against her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry. All of it…every stupid thing I’ve done, I’m so sorry, doll,” Jax whispered in her ear again. “I’m gonna make it right for you, okay?”

He grinned at her again with that smirk that curled around the side of his face and the impact sent her reeling.

“Have fun with Don tonight, okay? I’ll be around if you need me, but just let me know when you ladies need a ride home.”

And then he stepped away from her to give her that space he’d promised. He followed through on that promise the rest of the night too, careful to keep his distance but never really too far away either - just close enough to keep her in his peripheral but not too close that she’d feel smothered. And that was just as hard as it was confusing because she wanted him closer but wanted him further away too.

He also spent most of his time at the party batting Analise away, who tried and failed, and then tried and failed again to get his attention.

“Come on,” Dylan overheard her whine to Jax. “Why won’t you just  _ talk  _ to me? You’re being so weird right now.”

“I  _ told  _ you already,” he huffed back, frustration seeping through his voice. “I’m done talking to you, and I’m done with  _ you _ . Knock this shit off and leave me alone.”

“This is about her, isn’t it? That stupid -”

“You really wanna do this here? In front of all these people? ‘Cuz we can if you want, but you’re not gonna like the way it ends.”

Dylan could hear the tightness in his voice, the way he seemed to be just barely holding onto some level-headed control when it came to Analise, and she just didn’t know how to feel about all this. Hearing him say all that to Analise, out loud and where everyone could see and hear, made her chest tighten and squeeze, and her heart wasn’t any better. Part of her wanted to run to him, but the other part knew this wasn’t enough. Telling Analise one time to stay away didn’t make up for all the other times he’d willfully allowed her attention and had purposely picked her time and time again.

But maybe it was a start.

The next morning, long after Jax dropped them off at Donna’s house, Donna took her home, and then Dylan crept around the side of her house to avoid her dad for as long as possible. When she got to her window, she stopped short at what was waiting for her.

Wedged right between the window and the windowsill, was a folded up note and a Snickers bar. She’d purposely left her window open the night before, knowing she’d need to make this kind of entrance into the house ahead of time, and she had a feeling the person who’d left her this note, and the Snickers bar, was well aware of that.

Dylan chewed on her bottom lip, nervousness and fluttering filling her heart all at the same time, as she flipped the note open to read it.

_ I bet you two Snickers bars that you’re my girlfriend by Thanksgiving. This one is just because. Also, I know I told you this already, but I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and I’ve always been an idiot, but I’m not going to be an idiot anymore. I haven’t treated you the way you should be treated, and I know I can’t take that back. You deserve better, and that’s what I’m going to be, okay? _

_ Also, keep this window locked. How many times do I have to tell you that, doll?  _

She felt her lips curl up at the corners as she folded the note back up, grabbed the Snickers bar off her windowsill, and unwrapped it.

* * *

_ Three Days Later _

Jax yanked a pair of basketball shorts over his hips and gave Cash a playful shove into his locker just because he could. They still had about three minutes before they were due back in the gym for class, but that wasn’t a big deal. If they were late, they were late.

Cash bounced back easily, dipping down in a boxer’s stance, and jutted his neck from side to side like he was getting ready for a fight. Jax just shoved him back into his locker, just as playfully as the last time, when a few voices carried over from a row of lockers closer to the doors.

“No fucking way, Spencer. That didn’t happen.”

That sounded a little bit like Sam Phillips, the same guy who’d hosted the party half the school had been at after Dylan’s basketball game on Friday night. Which meant he was probably talking to his buddy, Justin Spencer, and Jax was more keen to tune those douchebags out than anything. They were dumb jocks, who lived on the  _ good  _ side of town, and whose parents owned the stand-up businesses around town that also happened to survive on the protection and cooperation of the club. Not like any of those assholes actually acknowledged it, let alone appreciated it, and Sam and Justin were just idiots who had no idea where the money that kept them in Nikes really came from.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Justin Spencer’s voice carried over through the lockers. “She grabbed me, like, completely outta the blue, and started talking to me. I have no idea why ‘cuz every time I’ve tried to talk to her before Spanish class this year, Teller’s always been right there behind her, staring me down like he’s gonna - oh shit, did you see them in here?”

“Nah,” Sam told him. “I think they’re in the gym already.”

And that was the moment everything stilled around him. Jax sank down to the bench behind him, hanging onto every word. Cash had frozen too, but he stayed put, standing still and straight, like he was ready to take off at a moment’s notice to defend his sister’s honor.

“Aw shit, man, if he finds out about this I think he just might kill me.”

“I don’t know,” Sam threw back lightly. “I’m having a pretty hard time believing you right now, bro. She’s, like, untouchable, right? Why would you risk a beating like that?”

“‘Cuz she pulled me into your sister’s bedroom and started taking off her clothes, bro! What was I supposed to do, say no, put your clothes back on? I mean, she’s my fucking  _ dream  _ girI. I couldn’t say no to that, right?  _ Right _ ?”

Jax missed Sam’s response above the ringing in his ears. He was sort of aware that Cash’s face had turned beet-red, to the point where it looked like steam just might pour out of his ears. And when Cash made a move to blast off, Jax pressed a hand into Cash’s chest to hold him steady, at least for now. He needed to hear where this was going first.

“And  _ then _ ,” the douchebag went on. “I tried talking her out of it, ya know? I tried telling her that Teller would kill me if he ever found out, and you know what she said?” He didn’t bother to wait for Sam to respond. “She said Teller wouldn’t find out about it if I didn’t tell anyone and that  _ she  _ wouldn’t tell anyone. She even told me that she doesn’t think Teller cares what she does or who she does it with…I mean, what was I supposed to do?”

“Jesus,” Sam laughed. “The girl’s got no fucking clue he put her on lockdown. I don’t think she would’ve pulled that shit with you if she knew. She’s not like that, ya know? She’s actually a nice girl.”

“I know,” Justin huffed. “I’ve fucking liked that girl since freshman year, and I figured, if this is the only chance I get, I’d better take it, since she was offering and Teller wasn’t around to stop me.”

Something dark and vicious twisted around Jax, pulling him under and holding him there.

“Yeah, dude, but he  _ did  _ show up. I don’t know how you managed to get away with it.”

“I don’t know. Good timing, maybe? But seriously, dude, she just took her clothes off and told me she wanted to have sex. What was I supposed to do? And then she asked me if I had a condom and…I mean, I  _ asked _ her if she was sure. I  _ did.  _ And she said she was so...we did it.”

Cash was struggling against Jax’s grip now, but he held tight, even as Cash raged and gnashed his teeth to try to get to the fool who was standing just yards away, spilling things about Dylan she obviously hadn’t wanted anyone to know. She’d told that douchehole as much, and here he was, flapping his lips like it was going out of style the first chance he got.

Jax found himself nodding into the void. He deserved this. He’d  _ earned  _ this. 

“I mean,” Justin went on, still clearly none the wiser that he had an unintended audience. “I woulda been stupid to say no, right?” Again, he didn’t wait for Sam to respond. “But, I don’t know, it was weird after…I asked her out, and she was just like,  _ no, I’m not looking for a boyfriend, this was just sex, don’t tell anyone.  _ That’s the kinda thing a chick like Analise Taylor would pull, ya know?”

“No shit,” Sam laughed. “Except Taylor’s too busy trying to get herself all over Teller’s dick to know any different right now.”

“Fuck yeah. That girl is a  _ slut _ . But at least she doesn’t pull any punches. Maybe Dylan’s, like, a  _ closet _ slut. Maybe she’s been doing all this under Teller’s nose -”

That was the point where Cash just wouldn’t stop anymore. He shoved against Jax, taking off down the end of the row, but Jax was right on his heels. Where the fuck did this motherfucker think he got off talking about her like that?

The two guys must’ve heard footsteps headed right for them because they tried to make a run for it, but Cash had Justin by the back of the neck before he could get very far and slammed him into the nearest locker, holding him there by the throat.

“The  _ fuck _ did you just say about my sister?” Cash spat in his face.

Justin’s eyes widened, his skin turned so pale it was almost translucent. At this point, his buddy was long gone, and he knew resistance was futile. His eyes flicked to Jax, who’d taken his position to the side, and Justin’s eyes just about fell out of his head.

“I’m sorry!” Justin cried out in desperation. “I’m sorry! I didn’t -”

Jax stepped in closer, bringing his face in close to elicit the most amount of fear. From the looks of it, Justin hadn’t pissed himself yet, but it was still early.

“Say it again,” Jax growled in his face.

Justin stuttered and sputtered against the locker, still pale with fear. “Wh…what?”

He just leaned in even closer. “What you called her, you piece of shit. Say it again.”

Now, the piece of shit had the nerve to stutter some more, like he had no idea what to do, and no idea what to say.

“What?” Jax grinned darkly. “All of a sudden you got nothin’ to say?”

“You sure had no problem before,” Cash chimed in, pushing Justin into the locker again just because he could. “Now you suddenly remembered who you were talkin’ about, you sonuvabitch?”

“Nn…no,” Justin sputtered again. “I didn’t -”

“Oh?” Jax sneered in his face. “You didn’t mean it? Sure sounded like you meant it. Now, it also sounds like we need to have a discussion. We’ve been through this before, but we can go through it again. What have I told you about Dylan Shaw?”

When Justin didn’t respond, Cash just slammed him into the locker again.

“You can look but…” Jax prompted, his eyes narrowing into dark slits.

Justin’s head lobbed back against the locker again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, and finally, he murmured, “Don’t touch.”

“That’s right,” Jax flashed him a menacing grin just so he could bare his teeth. “Don’t  _ fucking  _ touch. I don’t give a shit what happened in that room before you whipped your dick out,  _ bro _ . You knew the rule, and you didn’t listen. So you know what that means?”

Justin whimpered a little, squeezing his eyes shut like he was prepping himself for a beating of epic proportions. That was coming in a little bit, but first, Jax had to make one thing clear.

“It means I fucking  _ own  _ your ass,” Jax leaned in again to make sure Justin heard him. “I  _ own  _ it,  _ bro _ , for as long as I want.”

Justin just winced, shaking his head from side to side like that would somehow get him out of this little predicament. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m  _ sorry _ .”

“Hey, now,” Jax tilted his head to the side with an easy smile. “I get it. If I was in your shoes, I think I woulda done the same thing. And I appreciate the apology. I really do - and you were right before, you know. She  _ is  _ a nice girl, but the thing is, I don’t see you treating her like one. If you think there’s something wrong with her now that she let you touch her, maybe you should take a look at your fucking hands,  _ bro.  _ And if she asked you not to tell anyone, you should’ve shown her some fucking respect and listened.”

Cash tightened his grip on Justin, pushing him into the locker again with fresh violence. “Yeah,  _ bro.  _ My sister is better than you, but you already knew that. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.”

“I know, I  _ know _ !” Justin cried out, and  _ finally _ , a tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m fucking  _ sorry _ !”

“Like I said before,” Jax murmured. “I appreciate the apology. But apologies aren’t gonna cut it,” he paused there to wag a finger in Justin’s face, “You took something that wasn’t yours to take, you piece of shit. And I’m never gonna forget that.  _ Ever.  _ And because of that, I  _ own  _ you. Now, I know this is a given, but I think it needs to be said - you  _ never  _ tell another soul about this, yeah? And your buddy - we’ll make sure he never breathes another word of it either. If she wants this kept quiet, you’re gonna fucking keep it quiet.”

Now that he’d said his peace and made himself crystal clear, he stepped aside so Cash could finish the job. While it would’ve felt cathartic to punch the fucker in the face, all he really wanted to do was punch  _ himself  _ in the face. He was the one who really deserved it anyway because he’d brought this on himself, just like Justin Spencer had. So, he stood to the side and watched while Cash pummeled the dumbass into the ground.

There’d been a little bit of relief at seeing the asshole getting his face beaten into a bloody pulp, but it didn’t last.

All he could hear was her voice, and her somber, beautiful face when she’d whispered, “ _ I wanted it to be you.” _

He hadn’t understood then, but he did now. And he had no one to blame but himself. None of this was her fault. All the culpability rested right on his shoulders, right where it belonged. God, he’d been so close that night…so fucking close. He must’ve just caught up to her right after she left that room because he’d had his eyes on her the entire rest of the night, and she’d never disappeared from his view.

_ I wanted it to be you. _

_ Maybe it’s too late, Jax. _

Now it all made perfect sense.

And it was those thoughts that carried him all the way through the rest of gym class - Phillips and Spencer were smart enough to know that ratting would only make it worse for them - and as soon as the bell rang, he jogged out of the gym, down the hallway, and headed right for her locker. He found the back of her head easily, grinning at the way she leaned a shoulder against her locker, chatting away with Donna - whose eyes widened when she saw him coming down the hall from over the top of Dylan’s dark head.

Dylan must’ve registered the look on Donna’s face because she turned her head to see what her friend was gaping at, and then her beautiful eyes, which he’d decided reminded him of cinnamon, widened just as big as Donna’s.

But he didn’t waste a moment. He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulled her tight against his chest.

“It’s not too late,” he murmured into her hair, breathing her in. “Okay, doll? I wanted it to be you too, but it’s not too late.”

He kissed the side of her head, choosing to just ignore the confusion in her eyes as he grinned down at her.

“I’m lookin’ forward to gettin’ those Snickers bars from you,” he winked at her as he stepped around her, glancing at her over his shoulder one more time to throw her another wink. He grinned as she stood in the hallway, her hands on her tiny hips, with a small smile curving up her beautiful lips.

That little high lasted all the way out to the parking lot until he got to his truck. He’d decided to skip the rest of his classes - it wasn’t like he really needed them for anything other than a diploma anyway, and he immediately turned the dial on his stereo to blare some music as loud as he could.

His drive was mostly a rage-fueled one, and it had taken the little self-control he had left not to turn his truck around and hunt Justin Spencer down again to hand him another well-deserved beating. Just the thought of that son of a bitch with his hands on her, with his  _ body  _ on her…he’d almost had to pull over at least twice just to calm himself down and figure out how to breathe again. 

And then he’d turned his rage on himself, right where it belonged. Because he really had no one else to blame. What was she supposed to do? Sit around forever while he got his shit together and wait for him to stop screwing around with every other girl at their school? He was kinda surprised it hadn’t happened sooner, but he also liked to think his threats had had enough weight to put the fear of God into the idiots at their school - all except one, apparently.

But he hadn’t been lying to Justin Spencer before either. He would never, ever forget that Spencer had snuck in there, right at the last possible second, and stolen what should’ve been his right out from under him. If he’d just gotten his act together sooner, if he’d just shown up at that stupid party sooner, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have driven her to that.

Everything that had happened at her game, her fight with Analise in the locker room, her confusion, her decision and her determination to follow through on that decision…that was all his fault. All of it.

And finally, when the tears came, stinging and pricking his eyes, just like he deserved, he really did have to pull over. He just let the tears come. Let them wash over him, drenching him in devastation, covering him in regret, and engulfing him in failure.

He’d failed her at every turn.

He’d pushed her to the point where she’d obviously felt she had no other options because he’d obviously made her believe that  _ he  _ wasn’t an option.

But he was done with all that now. He felt like he’d already made a little bit of headway with her, and maybe if he just stayed the course and kept his eye on the ball, he wouldn’t have to wait until Thanksgiving to get those two Snickers bars from her. So, it was with that in mind that he pulled into Dylan’s driveway a few hours later, after school, and when he knew Dylan would still be at basketball practice. He didn’t care if Cash was around - and if Cash wanted to hear this too, that was fine by him. He figured Cash already had a pretty good idea and had known since freshman year anyway.

If anything, he just wished he had a chance to talk to his dad before this particular conversation. Maybe John would’ve had some good advice for him right now - but maybe not, given his track record in the clubhouse with women who weren’t Jax’s mother. There was no way he was going to seek Clay out for this either. Clay wouldn’t understand, and Clay would probably just tell him to stop acting like a pussy and just come to the clubhouse instead.

And God forbid he should mention that he’d cried on the way over here too. Clay would never let him hear the end of that, and probably would just tell him something like,  _ pussy ain’t worth that, son, ‘cuz you can just get it anywhere. _

Sage advice coming from the man who’d not only taken his father’s place in the club, but also in his bed too. And if he’d bothered to go to Clay with this, and Clay had deigned to offer him that kind of advice, Jax would’ve just ignored him anyway.

There was only one man he really needed to talk to, and he wasn’t going home until he did.

Jax hopped out of his truck, still in his gym clothes, and jogged up the short walkway to the front door. He rang the bell, waited a few moments, and felt his heart leap into his throat when Dr. Shaw pulled the door open.

“Jax,” Dr. Shaw smiled back at him. “Nice to see you. Are you here for Cash? Dylan’s still at basketball practice if you’re looking for her.”

“Actually,” Jax rocked back on his heels, suddenly wishing he was wearing jeans so he could shove his hands in his pockets. “I’m here to see you.”

Dr. Shaw’s eyebrows lifted into his forehead, but he still waved Jax inside, gesturing for him to head to the living room where they could talk. He sank down onto the couch and rubbed his hands against his thighs to abate some of the anxiety coursing through him.

“So,” Dr. Shaw asked, tilting his head to the side as he dropped into the chair across from him. “What did you want to talk about?”

Jax pushed out a rough breath, and then just went for it. What did he really have to lose at this point anyway?

“I, uh,” he grimaced at the crack in his voice, but he powered through it. “I’d like to ask Dylan out.”

Dr. Shaw’s eyes narrowed just a touch, and Jax couldn’t decide if it was playful or threatening or maybe a little bit of both. “You mean, on a  _ date _ ?”

Jax cleared his throat, glancing down at his hands for a moment, and then making sure to look Dr. Shaw in the eye when he responded, “Yeah. On a date. I guess…I guess I just wanted to make sure that was okay with you first.”

Dylan’s dad just huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Well, I appreciate you coming over here to talk to me ahead of time, although I can’t say this is a huge shock. You two kids have known each other for ages, and I suppose it was only a matter of time until your friendship turned into something else.”

All he could do was nod and hope that was enough. He was so out of his element right now it wasn’t even funny.

“So where do you plan on taking her out for this  _ date _ ?”

Aw, shit. He hadn’t really gotten that far yet, so he could only shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe a movie? Somethin’ like that. I’ll take her wherever she wants to go.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you will,” Dr. Shaw's mouth quirked up a little in amusement, and then he schooled his expression just as quickly. “So when you go on this date, you’re gonna drive safe, right?”

Jax nodded immediately. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll keep your hands to yourself?”

Jax swallowed hard, murmuring hoarsely, “Yes, sir.”

“And you’ll have her back home at a reasonable hour? Her curfew is 11:00 on the weekend, and 10:00 on weeknights, but I’m sure you know that already.”

“Yes, sir.”

Now, Dr. Shaw’s mouth quirked up yet again. “And what about the fact that she’s grounded for the next month? How does  _ that _ factor into your plans?”

He just lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have a problem with that. It gives me plenty of time anyway.”

“Plenty of time for what?”

Now, Jax felt his own lips quirk up. “To convince her to go out with me.”

“So she doesn’t  _ want  _ to go out with you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Nah,” Jax felt himself grinning back at Dr. Shaw. “She does. You see, Dr. Shaw, I’ve been in love with your daughter since I was 10 years old. I just never really knew what to do about it until now, you know? And because of that, there was a… _ misunderstanding  _ between us about how I feel about her and how she feels about me, but we’re workin’ that out right now.”

“I see,” Dr. Shaw nodded tightly, folding his hands carefully on his lap as he spoke.

“And because of that…misunderstanding, I hurt her feelings. I didn’t mean to - trust me, Dr. Shaw, the  _ last  _ thing I’d ever want to do, and ever  _ will  _ do, is hurt her. But she’s kinda mad at me right now, and that’s okay because I deserve it.”

“And why do you deserve it?”

Again, Jax found himself just lifting a shoulder for lack of anything better to do. “‘Cuz I’m an asshole, I guess. But I’m not gonna be an asshole anymore, okay, Dr. Shaw? I love her, and I wanna be with her, and when I patch into the club in two years, I want her to be my ol’ lady. I promise you - I’ll take care of her and I’ll treat her right from now on.”

Dr. Shaw stared back at him long enough to make him shift uncomfortably on the couch, and definitely long enough to start counting down the seconds until he could make a quick exit. Finally, Dr. Shaw’s quiet voice called out to him.

“And what makes you think she feels the same way about you?”

Jax’s lips curled up into a confident smile. “I just know, Dr. Shaw.”

After a long moment of hesitation, and maybe a tiny bit of indecision too, Dr. Shaw’s head dipped down into a tight, resigned nod. “Alright, Jax. That’s fair. And what about your tendency to go through girls like some kind of big man on campus, huh? I’ve heard the rumors, too - I’m pretty sure everyone in this town is aware that you’re not exactly, uh… _ inexperienced _ . I see a lot of your dad in you, son, and some of it I like, and some of it I don’t.”

He nodded immediately, having already anticipated this. “I understand why you might feel that way, Dr. Shaw, and I can’t say I blame you. I won’t lie - I think I  _ was  _ acting a little bit like my dad not too long ago in terms of…uh,  _ girls _ , but I’m not gonna be like that anymore. I’m gonna be better now.”

Dr. Shaw leaned forward with his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Just like that? You’re gonna be better now?”

The only answer Jax could give was simple, blunt, and the honest truth: “For  _ her _ ? Yeah. Just like that, Dr. Shaw.”

Dylan’s dad studied him for a long, agonizing moment, and then he pushed out a rough sigh. “AIright. I suppose I can live with that - for now. I appreciate you coming over here to talk to me, but just so you know, you really only need her permission. If she wants to go out with you, and if you treat her right and take care of her, like you said you would, then I suppose I don’t see a problem with it.”

Jax leapt to his feet when Dr. Shaw stood up from his chair with his hand extended, and he shook Dr. Shaw’s hand firmly and purposefully, and nearly cried out in surprise when Dylan’s dad pulled him in for a quick embrace.

“Don’t disappoint me, son,” Dr. Shaw murmured in his ear. “I mean it.”

“I won’t, sir,” Jax nodded. “I promise.”

Dr. Shaw nodded to him one more time as he turned on his heel to head for the front door. He’d never been more eager to get out of this house, which was a pretty weird feeling, considering the amount of time he’d spent here over the years.

And when he got outside, he made a quick run to his truck to get what he needed, and then rounded the side of the house until he got to her window.

He pulled up on it a little, nodding to himself with a grin when he found it locked, and left a Snickers bar on her windowsill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Happy Sunday! We're about halfway through the flashback chapters, and there's still a lot of ground to cover in showing how they came together, and then how they were torn apart before we get back to the present time. At least Jax has finally pulled his head out of his ass about her, right? Lol!
> 
> I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter, especially given the way Dylan took more control of the situation ;)


	5. Chapter Five

_November 2001  
_ _Sixteen Years Old_

_Baby, I'm yours  
_ _And I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines  
_ _Yours until the poets run out of rhyme  
_ _In other words, until the end of time  
_ _I'm gonna stay right here by your side  
_ _-Arctic Monkeys_

Dylan rang the doorbell on the Tellers' front door, knowing full well that Jax wasn't there. She had about an hour until he got back from his shift at T-M, but she knew who would be home, and that was what was most important to her right now. Hopefully, though, Clay would be at the clubhouse, and she wouldn't have to try to make awkward small talk with him. He was rough, and grumpy, and she also knew Jax didn't really like him, which meant that Dylan didn't particularly care for him either - and she _really_ had no idea how Gemma could be with a man like that, who was the complete opposite of JT.

Where JT was warm and funny, Clay was cold and boring. Where JT was playful and compassionate, Clay was sober and unfeeling.

And it was the same way with Jax and Clay too - complete opposites. But at least she didn't have to interact with Clay too much if she could help it.

The front door swung open to reveal exactly who she was looking for, and Dylan found herself smiling back at Gemma, who rested a playful hand on her hip as she waved Dylan inside the house.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Gemma greeted her warmly. "Are you looking for Jax? He's still at T-M, but I can -"

"No," Dylan cut in, biting down on her bottom lip. "Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you about something."

"Oh, okay," Gemma smiled, but she still tilted her head to the side with some confusion. "Well, I'm happy to talk about whatever you want. Why don't we go into the kitchen? Do you want anything to drink? I could make you some tea, or some coffee, if that's what you're into these days."

Dylan smiled nervously, hoping and praying that her nervousness wasn't quite as obvious as she thought it was. This was going to be a little awkward, but she just really didn't have anyone else that she felt comfortable asking. And she knew Gemma would be honest with her and tell her everything she wanted to know.

So, when they were seated at the kitchen table, she found herself just blurting it out without any prompting: "I wanted to talk to you about sex."

Gemma's heavily-lined dark eyes widened just a touch, but she recovered quickly, clearing her throat a little before responding, "Oh. Okay. Sure, honey, we can talk about that. Do you have some questions or…?"

And here was where this was about to get weird.

"Well, _yes_ … I guess…" Dylan pushed out a heavy sigh. "Well, I'm thinking I might have it again sometime soon, but I'm not sure about it."

Her eyes widened when she realized she'd said _again,_ and judging by the way Gemma had frozen still across from her, she hadn't missed that little slip either.

"So," Gemma started in a hesitant voice. "When you say _again,_ I can only assume that means you've already had it, at least once?"

All she could do was nod because she was too embarrassed to do anything else.

"It's okay, honey," Gemma reassured her, reaching out to cover Dylan's hand with hers. "Sex is nothin' to be ashamed of. And it's certainly nothin' to be embarrassed about, as long as everyone in the room knows what they're doing and wants to be there too."

Dylan found herself frowning. "What do you mean everyone in the room -"

"Hey," Gemma just batted a hand at her. "Forget I said that part. What's really important here is that when you and Jax decide to try it again -"

"It wasn't with…" she corrected her, but immediately regretted it when Gemma's dark eyes flashed.

"Oh," Gemma nodded tightly and she squeezed Dylan's hand. "Okay. When did this happen?"

"A couple of weeks ago. That was before…" she trailed off again because she knew Gemma was already aware that Jax was working overtime to win that bet by Thanksgiving.

Since that hug he'd surprised her with in the middle of the hallway the Monday after her game and after that awful party at Sam Phillips' house, he hadn't wasted a single opportunity.

Whether it was buying her lunch, and then carrying it for her to their usual table, leaving her Snickers bars on her windowsill and in her locker, walking her to every class with his arm around her shoulders and then waiting for her after every class so he could walk her to the next one, cheering for her louder than anyone else in the student section, calling her from his landline just to tell her _sweet dreams,_ washing her car, washing her _dad's_ car, mowing their lawn… he'd almost turned it into a sport all on his own.

But there was never any pressure. Never any kind of strings attached to anything he did or said. He seemed to be doing it just because he wanted to, and because he wanted to _earn it_ , like he'd told her at the party.

Today, he'd left a Snickers bar and a note in her locker that read, _You look really pretty today._

A few days before, he'd also left a note that read, _I think your eyes look like cinnamon, and they just might be one of my favorite things about you if I had to choose, but I don't want to. Too many to choose, doll._

And then, a few days before that, _I really liked that article you wrote for the newspaper about the cafeteria food. I only had to look up three of the words you used. I figured you'd be proud of that._

And then, the week before, _I like your skirt today. Wear more skirts, please._

And then there was the fact that any and all stories about him and other girls completely dried up. The rumor around school was that Jax had completely cut off girls like Analise in favor of becoming a one-woman man. Everyone at school was also under the impression that the one woman he had his eye on was _her_ , and that they were already dating exclusively.

But that last part wasn't completely true, even if Jax was doing nothing to squash that particular rumor. And, given the way he treated her in school, she could understand why everyone thought that.

She wasn't quite sure what his endgame was - if it was to just wear her down slowly, but surely, or if he had some kind of plan to finally get her to admit that she was his girlfriend.

Because if she was _really_ being honest with herself, the only thing they _weren't_ doing inside the lines of dating, was the physical part. Other than his arm around her shoulder and the occasional hug, which now seemed to linger longer and longer as this went on, that was the most physical contact he'd attempted.

But all of that had happened _after_ the party, and _after_ she'd gone into that bedroom with Justin Spencer. And that was part of why she'd wanted to talk to Gemma now.

"Honey," Gemma leaned across the table and squeezed her hand. "Never, _ever_ feel bad about having sex - unless you're cheating. And you _weren't_ cheating, Dylan. Maybe it felt that way, and maybe it still does, but my son hadn't pulled his head out of his ass yet and you were well within your rights to look elsewhere until he did. It would be different if it happened just now, or even a week or two ago, but it didn't. You've got nothing to be sorry about and nothing you need to apologize to him for, okay?"

Dylan felt her lips curl a little at the corners. "Okay."

"Good," Gemma nodded warmly. "Glad we've got that settled. And you and this boy…you used protection, right?"

She nodded immediately, and Gemma's relaxed just as quickly.

"Good," Gemma repeated, this time, her voice was a little bit softer too. "You know, my mother always told me there were only two things I always needed to remember to wear to protect myself: sunscreen and condoms. Not always at the same time, but you know what I mean. Don't forget that, okay? Now, let's go back to what you said before - you said you weren't sure about sex? What did you mean, honey?"

"Well…" she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, very aware that Gemma still hadn't let go of her hand. "I thought it was supposed to feel…"

Gemma lifted her eyebrows expectantly, leaning forward again almost as if she thought that might coax it out of her. "You thought it was supposed to feel…?"

"Good, I guess?" Dylan shrugged helplessly, and it definitely didn't help that Gemma's face fell a little, and then her lips lifted up again into a wistful smile. "I mean, if it feels like that all the time, why does anybody do it?"

"Well," Gemma sighed. "I hate to say it, but I think the first time tends to not be the… _greatest_ experience for girls. I know my first time wasn't anything to go runnin' around, braggin' about - if it makes you feel any better. So, did it just not feel _good_ or did it _hurt?"_

She swallowed hard, shifting again in her chair. "It hurt. Pretty much the whole time. But, I guess it didn't last very long either, so that was okay too."

Gemma nodded with understanding, but there was also some sadness in there too, and she squeezed Dylan's hand again. "It's not always like that, Dylan. I promise. It sounds to me like the boy you were with didn't know the first thing about how to take care of you and how to make sure you were getting something out of it too. That's not your fault - that's on _him_. And I can understand how that might make you feel a little ambivalent about sex now, and there's nothin' wrong with that either."

She took a moment to sift through everything Gemma had just said, letting it simmer a little bit and work its way around what she'd thought about sex and what her first experience with it had been.

"So it _does_ feel better then?"

Gemma grinned at her now. "Yes, honey. It _absolutely_ does. With the right person - someone you're attracted to, someone you _want_ to have sex with, and someone who knows how to ask the right questions to figure out what you want - sex can be…shit, Dylan, sex can be so good it's all you think about. It can…just consume you, and make you feel alive, and make you feel like a woman, and make you feel powerful and vulnerable all at the same time…and it's even better if that right person is someone you love. That just amplifies the rest of it and makes it stronger, more intense, because you feel more _connected_ when you're with the person you love."

Huh. Well, that _did_ sound better. That sounded pretty good actually. Maybe even better than good.

"So…how do you go from sex that hurts to sex that feels good?"

"Well," Gemma laughed lightly. "It's really just about two things: chemistry and communication. You can still have good sex without good chemistry, but you can't have good sex without good communication. If you've got both of them workin' for you, sex can be goddamn electrifying. You ever heard the song, _I feel the earth move under my feet_ ," Gemma sang to her playfully. "It's like that - you can literally feel the earth move and feel sparks fly between you when you've got chemistry and communication workin' for you."

Dylan's lips parted to respond, but Gemma swooped in, having already anticipated her next question.

"So the way you let him know what's workin' for you, and what isn't, doesn't have to be complicated. It can just be a noise you make to let him know you like something. Sometimes you might actually have to tell him, _do this_ or _do that_ , to really get your point across - and if there's somethin' you want, you might have to ask for it. That's the only way to really get what you want in bed, honey. You don't need to be afraid to ask either - tell him what you want, tell him how you're feeling, and then he'll respond the way he should, if he cares about whether it feels good for you too. And honey, if he _doesn't_ care…kick his ass to the curb and find someone who does."

Huh. All that made sense too. And then she wondered how things might have been different for her that first time, if she would've felt different after that first time, if Justin had cared just a little bit about the way she was feeling too, instead of making it all about himself. It wouldn't have changed the way she felt about _him_ , but it might've changed the way she felt about the whole thing in general.

"So, are you thinkin' that you and Jax might give it a try sometime soon?" Gemma waggled her eyebrows at her suggestively, and Dylan had to laugh. This was weird - she'd known Gemma since she was 10, but Gemma was also Jax's mother.

But the reality was that he was _this close_ to being her boyfriend. Jax Teller was probably the most experienced guy in their school, at least that way, and he was about to become her boyfriend. She finally had the kind of attention and affection from him that she'd always craved - but she knew that attention and that affection also had some other implications too.

And the problem with that was she worried he might have some certain expectations about their physical relationship that she may not be able to deliver on, at least not right away.

Dylan bit down on her bottom lip to hide another laugh. "I don't know. Probably. I mean, I know he's gonna wanna -"

"Now, hold up just a second," Gemma held up her palm just to reiterate her point. "Under no circumstances are you obligated to do anything that you're not ready for or that you don't wanna do. If you're not ready, or if you don't want to, and if Jax doesn't understand that, then you kick his ass to the curb and find someone who does."

Dylan just huffed out a laugh, shaking her head through her smile.

"That being said," Gemma pressed on with a sly grin. "I know my son. And I know how he feels about you. So I honestly don't believe you have anything to worry about _as long as_ you communicate with him and explain how you're feeling and why. That's all you gotta do, honey, and everything will be fine. Now, _that_ being said, when you two are ready to go down that road, the only thing I ask is that you give me a heads-up about it. I'm not tryin' to be weird or anything, but if you two are gonna start having sex regularly, then you really need to be on birth control. There's a free clinic in Lodi I can take you to - you don't need to worry about insurance or anything with that one, so your dad doesn't have to know if you don't want him to. And you know what? Jax is gonna go with you. That would be good for him too. I can help you make the appointment, but he needs to be the one to take you. There. That's all I'm gonna say about that."

"Okay," Dylan laughed, even though her head was spinning from all that. "And thanks, Gemma. I feel a lot better about everything now."

"Good," Gemma leaned forward again to squeeze her hand with a warm smile. "I'm glad. You know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"

"I know."

"So," Gemma tipped her chin to Dylan slyly as she rose up from the table. "How much longer are you gonna make him wait until it's official between you two, huh?"

Dylan tilted her head from side to side in thought. She didn't really have an endgame in mind either, but there was something about how hard he was trying that she liked, that sent a rush of heat and fluttering in all the places she was just discovering. Not to mention the fact that he kinda had it coming too.

"Maybe a little bit longer."

Gemma just barked out a laugh and wagged a finger at her. "Good for you. Make him work for it, honey."

She was just about to head for the door, especially since she knew Jax would be coming back from work soon, but then Gemma's words about communication bounced around in her head. Maybe there _were_ some things they should talk about sooner, rather than later, and maybe it was also best just to do it now, while she still had the nerve, and while everything was still fresh in her head.

"Hey, Gemma? Do you think I could hang out in Jax's room until he gets back? I think we should probably talk."

Gemma smiled knowingly, and just shrugged. "Sure, go right ahead."

"Don't worry," Dylan called out over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway. "I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."

Gemma's hearty laughter echoed down the hallway. "You're not the one I'm worried about, honey."

Dylan was still laughing a little bit to herself when she tiptoed inside Jax's bedroom and closed the door behind her. As usual, the room was a disaster. It had been a little while since she'd been inside his room, but before she could step foot in it, he was always rushing in ahead of her, kicking clothes and dishes under his bed, and throwing the covers over the top to make it look somewhat pulled together.

In the past, she'd never really understood why he bothered or why he cared.

But now, in light of everything else, and everything he'd been doing lately - just how attentive, how affectionate he'd been - it was starting to make more sense to her. Even the way he'd always half-teased, half-scolded her for forgetting to lock her bedroom window was starting to make more sense too.

And all that just made her feel a little bit high on life and a little bit stupid at the same time. She'd wanted him to notice her and look at her and smile at her and talk to her this way for years, and now, with every day that had passed since the party at Sam Phillips' house, it was becoming clearer and clearer that he'd _always_ noticed her and looked at her and smiled at her and talked to her this way. She'd just been too blinded to see and hear it for what it really was.

She found herself perusing his room and seeing it with new eyes, from the black Samcro flag above his bed to the American flag right behind his TV, everything looked a little bit different now. There was some loose change on top of his dresser, and she found herself running her fingertips over it, knowing it had been in his pocket and that he'd touched it. Her eyes stopped on a framed picture of JT on his bike and a 10-year-old Jax sitting on the handlebars with a shit-eating grin on his face. He looked so at home there, sitting on that bike on T-M's lot, and she understood why he spent so much time there. That was where his legacy lived, and he had every right to want to spend as much time with it as he could.

When the door clicked open behind her, Dylan whirled around from the dresser to find Jax standing in the doorway with his hand still on the doorknob, dressed in jeans and his blue T-M work shirt, and momentarily frozen where he stood.

His ocean blue eyes widened a touch, as if he couldn't quite believe she was really in his bedroom right now. And then, just as quickly, Jax's mouth quirked up at the corners before sliding into a full-blown, panty-dropping smirk.

"'Sup, doll," he tipped his chin to her. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Hello, Jackson," she smiled back. "I stopped by to talk to your mom for a little bit."

His eyebrows lifted as he ventured deeper inside the room and shut the door behind him. "What'd you need to talk to my mom about?"

"Oh, you know, just girl talk."

That just sent his eyebrows even higher into his forehead, and then his eyes narrowed a tiny bit as he tossed his keys onto the nightstand by his bed. "Okay."

"And then I decided to hang out until you got home from work."

Now, Jax's lips quirked even more as his eyes met hers from across his bed. "A'ight. I'm home. Now what?"

Suddenly, a wave of nerves washed over her. There was something about all this that felt so… _domestic_ and familiar, that both thrilled her and set her off-balance at the same time. Over the last few weeks, all of their interactions felt more charged somehow, and this one wasn't any different.

And then she remembered what Gemma had said, and pushed forward.

"I was hoping maybe we could talk a little bit?"

His jaw worked around an amused grin, and Jax rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide his reaction. "Sure, we can talk. What do you wanna talk about?"

Dylan swallowed hard. Her eyes dropped to his bed - maybe they should sit down, but sitting on the bed felt a tiny bit dangerous, especially in light of the conversation she'd literally just had with his mother. And because he knew her like the back of his hand, he winked at her and stepped around the side of the bed, folding himself down until he plopped on the floor at the foot of his bed.

When he patted the spot next to him with a wide grin, Dylan just rolled her eyes but sank down to the carpet and pulled her knees into her chest.

"So what's up, Dylan?"

She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip, her eyes focused on a spot about a foot in front of her. "I don't know…I thought maybe we should clear the air a little between us?"

"What do you mean?"

His question said one thing, but the way his eyes glimmered told a different story. He knew exactly what she meant. He just wanted to hear her say it first.

So, Dylan pushed out an exasperated sigh, tilting her head to the side as she regarded him with some annoyance. "Jax. We're in this position right now because we _haven't_ been talking…at least not the way we should've been talking this whole time. If we'd just been honest with each other, if one of us had just had the courage to actually say how we felt just _one_ time…"

He nodded tightly as he drew his own legs up to his chest and hooked his hands in front of him. "I know. I'm sorry 'bout that, doll."

"You know you can stop apologizing at some point," Dylan smiled. "I get it. You're sorry."

"Yeah, well," he sighed heavily, his eyes still fixed on his hands. "I feel like I need to say it a few more times though."

"Okay," then she bumped his shoulder to get him to look at her. "Hey. I need to tell you something. And I know you're probably not gonna like it - well, I _know_ you're not gonna like it, but I want to be honest with you, and I don't want to keep things from you either."

His eyebrows knitted together as he bit down on his bottom lip, watching her with careful eyes. "Alright. And just so you know, doll, whatever you gotta say - it doesn't matter. And it doesn't change anything for me either."

Dylan's mouth curled at the corners, but judging by his calm demeanour, she had a bad feeling there was a good chance he already knew what she was about to say.

"That night at Sam's party," she started roughly. God, this was a lot harder to say out loud than she'd anticipated. Especially to _him_. And now, the only thing to do was just rip off the bandaid. "I had sex with Justin Spencer."

He winced a little on the impact, and he swallowed hard, shifting his weight uncomfortably on the carpet next to her. Finally, he nodded tightly before shooting her a weak smile.

"It's okay, Dylan," he murmured hoarsely. "You didn't do anything wrong that night."

"I know," she tried to toss out with some lightness that felt forced, even if he still laughed at the attempt. Still, his reaction - so calm, so cool - was _not_ what she'd been expecting. "Why aren't you more upset about this, Jax?"

He pushed out a rough sigh and then scrubbed both hands over his face before finally daring a glance at her. "It's not that I'm not upset. Or mad. Or disappointed. Or fucking sick to my stomach about it. But none of that is directed at you."

Still…her eyes narrowed at him and her heart thundered in her chest. "You already knew. You've known this whole time, haven't you?"

Jax rolled his bottom lip underneath his front teeth, and finally, flashed her a sheepish grin. "I might've overhead Spencer talkin' about it to one of his buddies that Monday after the party."

Her lips parted in surprise, and her heart just about punched through her stomach. "What? Are you kidding me? I told him -"

"I know, I know," Jax smiled softly, playfully bumping her with his shoulder. "You didn't want anyone to know. So I made sure he wouldn't tell anyone else."

"And how'd you manage that?"

He just lifted a shoulder. "You heard anyone at school talkin' about it, doll?"

"No."

"Then that's all that matters. I wasn't gonna let him run around, spillin' shit you didn't want people to know. All I cared about was you - _and_ the fact that Spencer broke my rule."

Dylan frowned back at him, even as she found herself leaning in to get closer to him. "What are you talking about?"

Just as the words left her lips, Justin's panicked voice rang in her head: _If Teller finds out about this, he'll beat me to a fucking pulp!_

And then, Jax flashed her a cocky smirk. "When it comes to you, every guy in our school has been told that, under no uncertain terms, you're off-limits. Always have been and always will be."

It took a second for all of that to really register. Why she'd never been able to find a date to a school dance, save for Opie. Why she'd never been asked out. Why she'd been able to talk to other boys at school _only_ in class, and _only_ when Jax wasn't around. Why she'd needed to corner an unsuspecting classmate at a rowdy party just to get some attention. That all washed over her in waves, each one knocking her sideways and leaving her reeling. And she just didn't know how to feel, didn't know how to grasp hold of any of the emotions rolling through her.

Finally, Dylan just shook her head and huffed out a laugh, bumping him again with her shoulder. "You really _are_ an idiot, you know that?"

"And why is that?" he laughed, his blue eyes sparkling down at her. But his closeness right now didn't intimidate her the way she thought it might. Instead, it just drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Dylan just smiled at him. "You didn't have to do any of that. You've had _so_ many chances to ask me out to _any_ one of those dances, or just to do anything in general, and I would've said yes every single time. All you had to do was ask me."

He seemed to chew on that for a moment, staring at his hands, his chest heaving a little bit underneath his blue work shirt. Finally, his head turned and his ocean blue eyes slammed into her as his mouth curved into the sexiest smirk she'd ever seen.

"Hey, Dylan?"

Her heart stuttered. "Yeah, Jax?"

His lips curled up even more. "You wanna be my girlfriend?"

Now, Dylan's heart flipped around in her chest, and she found herself biting back a huge smile, trying desperately to memorize this moment because _this_ was the moment she knew she'd always look back on as the one that changed everything for them. And then, before she knew what she was doing, she leaned in to close the space between them, and pressed her lips against his mouth.

Jax stilled underneath her touch, like he'd been frozen to the carpet, and when he didn't move, she pulled back just as abruptly - her face was on fire now, and she worried that she'd done something wrong and completely misread what was really happening here.

But then his lips curled again, and her heart leapt into her throat when he moved toward her, reaching out to curve his rough fingertips around the side of her face. His lips brushed hers, slowly, cautiously at first, and then he moved closer, the hand on her face drawing her in deeper as his lips took more from her. There was a sweetness, mixed with an intensity, in his kiss that sent her flying. Little sparks rippled down her arms, curling around her neck, and threatened to lift her right off the carpet.

 _Chemistry_ , she thought as his lips moved over hers, _that's what this is._

His free hand snaked around her waist, and now he really was lifting her off the carpet, pulling her across his lap until both of her legs straddled his waist. But they didn't stop kissing. His lips sealed over her mouth with a finesse that both surprised and thrilled her, gently coaxing her lips apart so he could slip his tongue into her mouth. When she jumped in his arms at the contact, his light laugh hummed against her lips and he pulled his mouth away so he could press their foreheads together.

"Was that okay?"

She nodded immediately - she was on fire. Just on _fire_. Every inch, every part of her, was just completely aflame. Of course it was okay. It was _better_ than okay, and better than good too.

"Yeah," she murmured breathlessly against his lips.

"So," he smiled. "Is that a _yeah, that was okay,_ or, _yeah, I wanna be your girlfriend_? You never really answered me before, doll."

Then she huffed out a laugh, pressing both her hands on his shoulders to steady herself a little more. "Didn't I, though?"

His lips curled into the same sexy smirk he'd given her before, and her chest fluttered. "Maybe you did. But can you just say it? _Please_? You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear it."

"Okay," she whispered, feeling her own mouth curl softly as she leaned in to brush her lips against his mouth again. "And yes, Jax. I wanna be your girlfriend."

Jax's lips parted into the most brilliant, megawatt smile she'd ever seen and she could feel everything coming off him in waves - the happiness, the relief, the excitement, the anticipation…it was all there, bounding off him and charging right for her.

"Alright," he told her with a cocky grin, his fingertips slipping just underneath the edge of her shirt. "It's settled then. You're my girlfriend, and that means I'm your boyfriend."

She tilted her head to the side playfully. "Is _that_ what that means? I never thought I'd actually see the day when you became some girl's boyfriend."

"You're not just _some girl_ ," he leaned back against his bed, his eyes softening but his face growing more serious by the second. "You're the only one I've ever wanted, doll. And you're the only one I'm _ever_ gonna want, okay? You get that, right?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "I get that."

"You've got nothin' to worry about. People at school might try to say shit to you, but the only way that shit would even have a shot in hell at bein' true is if it happened before that party. And what happened before that party and _at_ that party…it just doesn't matter. None of it ever mattered, Dylan. All that…it was just a placeholder for what I really wanted. I know that doesn't make it right and that doesn't make it go away, but it's the truth."

And underneath all of that, she could see the promise shining in his blue eyes too, the same eyes she'd seen in his father.

 _I'm not like him_. _Not that way. I won't do what he did._

"I know," she nodded into his hands. "And I want you to know, Jax, that I didn't do that…what I did at that party, I didn't do it to get back at you, or to hurt you. At least I don't think I did. I think I was just trying to prove something to myself that kinda blew up in my face. It didn't work, and I felt like I just made it worse between us afterward."

"You didn't make it worse, doll. If anything, it just drove it all home for me. It wasn't too late for us then, and that just made me work even harder to prove it to you."

"If it makes you feel any better," she threw out lightly, leaning forward again to brush her mouth against his lips just because that was something she could do now. "It was _terrible_. Like, almost to the point where I'm still not completely sure I wanna try it again anytime soon."

Jax blew out an anguished breath, and then he swallowed hard, tipping his head back against his bed again so he could get a better look at her. And then, his demeanor shifted on a dime. Whatever discomfort or awkwardness or regret he might've felt a moment before was gone now, and his eyes softened as his mouth curled into a cocky smirk.

"A'ight, doll," he tilted his head to the side, letting his fingertips slip up the edge of her shirt again. He must've just wanted to see how she'd react, because when she squeezed her eyes shut at the heady contact, that smirk on his face only deepened. "I hear you. And while I can't say I'm _happy_ the first time wasn't exactly a good one for you, I'm not necessarily upset about it either, you know? It wasn't with _me,_ so I think that might've been the problem."

"Oh," Dylan huffed out a laugh. Some new heat flushed all the way down to her waist when he shifted her ever so slightly on his lap, putting new pressure and new friction right at the spot where their bodies touched. "I see. Awfully confident, aren't ya?"

"Don't worry, doll. I gotta feeling you might feel differently about it after the next time - in fact, that's a promise. You _will_ feel different because it _will_ be," he smirked back at her, but then his eyes softened again as his hands squeezed her hips. "But that doesn't have to be anytime soon. I'm good with this…just _this,_ for as long as you want."

"What? You mean, like, just kissing?"

Jax's mouth curled again and he lifted a shoulder. "Maybe some touching too, if you'll let me. But, I figured, I waited this long to kiss you -"

"Why _did_ you wait so long to kiss me? And you weren't even the one who technically made the first move…"

He laughed a little at that, his eyes dropped back down to where their bodies met, and he swallowed hard. "I wasn't sure if you felt the same way. And I guess I just didn't wanna blow up what we already had if you didn't feel the same, even though I pretty much did that all on my own anyway. Like I said before, I was an idiot, and I don't deserve what you're givin' me right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna take it either. So I'm good with makin' up for lost time, you know?"

"Okay," she leaned in to murmur against his lips. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, doll. I'll do anything you want, whenever you want, however you want. I don't care how long we wait to do anything 'cuz I just wanna be with you anyway I can. If all that means for me right now is that I get to be your boyfriend, and hold your hand, and kiss you, and take you out on dates…doll, that makes me the luckiest idiot on the face of this planet. But if you want somethin', no matter what it is, all you gotta do is ask for it, and I'll give it to you. No questions asked. Well, maybe _some_ questions, but you know what I mean."

Dylan felt her lips lift, even as a rush of power flowed through her. She was about to ask for something she wanted. It was simple, and it would be easy for him to do, but it still felt like the first, monumental step in a lifetime of reaching for something that just might be better than she'd ever thought possible.

"Will you kiss me like you did before?"

Now, his eyes filled with renewed heat, with a fire that she'd seen before, and directed at _her._ She'd just never known what she was looking at until now.

"Did you like that? The way I was kissing you before?"

Dylan chewed on her bottom lip for a second, mustering up the courage to nod. She _did_ like it. And she wanted more. All she had to do was tell him.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I did. Can you do it again?"

He didn't hesitate. They leaned toward each other at the same time, their lips colliding until he abruptly pulled away, pressing their foreheads together as he sucked in a shaky breath.

"I wanna do this with you all night," he murmured. "But I gotta meet up with Ope and Cash in…probably about 10 minutes or something, just so you know. I don't want you to think I'm brushin' you off after all this. I wanna kiss you for as long as you'll let me, but I'm gonna have to get up and leave in a little bit, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled, suddenly feeling a tiny bit shy as she tilted her head to the side. "What are you guys doing?"

 _Now_ he hesitated. And that hesitation gave her pause.

"It's, uh…it's not a big deal or anything. But -"

"But I can't come, right?" she frowned.

Jax nodded tightly, and he drew his eyes down to where his hands met her waist, probably so he didn't have to look at _her._ "It's just this dumb thing we gotta do for the club. I guess you could say it's like a… _prospective_ prospect thing. I'm not sure how long it's gonna take, but I'll call you when I'm done."

She studied him carefully, taking note of the way he still couldn't quite meet her eyes, and her frown only deepened. "Is it dangerous, Jax?"

"Not really."

"Is it illegal?"

He huffed out a laugh, finally looking at her with a cocky smirk. "It's only illegal if we get caught, doll."

"Well, y'all better not get caught then. I can't have my boyfriend going to jail, you know."

"You got nothin' to worry about," Jax laughed again, running his hands down the side of her arms to reassure her. "Tig and Bobby planned it all out for us - all we gotta do is just follow through and we're golden."

In a way, she supposed this all made sense. It wasn't exactly a secret in town that the club was really an _outlaw_ one, even if it had taken her a few years to really wrap her head around what that meant. Jax was going to turn 17 right before Christmas, and then there was technically only one more full year until he really could become a prospect. Opie would be 18 a month after Jax, and then Cash and Dylan would turn 18 a year from next March.

So it made sense that the club was testing them a little bit right now and trying to suss out just how serious they were in becoming prospects, and finally, full members and officers, just like they'd always wanted. All of a sudden that future those three boys had dreamed about while they were riding around the neighborhood on their bikes didn't seem quite so far off.

"Hey," Jax's soft voice prompted her out of her revelry. "You okay? What you thinkin' about?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I'm fine. I was just thinking how crazy it is that you guys have waited so long to become prospects and now it's almost here. Like, _so_ close but it still feels like forever away, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Jax sighed and then he leaned in to press his lips into her mouth, probably just because that was a thing he could do now. "I want it so bad I can taste it…just like I can taste you right now."

She laughed into his kiss, but he didn't pull away and he didn't hesitate to finally follow through on what she'd asked for before. His mouth crashed over hers, coaxing her lips apart again, and then his tongue slipped right through them, carrying her away with him.

The next day, Dylan left two Snickers bars on the hood of Jax's truck on her way to school.

* * *

_Three Weeks Later  
_ _December 2001_

Dylan's hands shook as she pressed send on her cellphone to call Jax's house. This was one of those times where she really wished he'd just bite the bullet and get himself a phone, rather than wait to get a prepay when he became a prospect, but she didn't have any other options. She _had_ to call him. She _had_ to talk to him.

She had no idea how she was going to get through this conversation - but somehow, she _had_ to.

There was no other way. No other option. And she needed him too.

Even though they'd been officially dating for three weeks now, he was still her best friend and still the person she needed most.

"Hello?" Gemma's warm voice answered the landline.

Dylan cleared her throat, willing her voice to sound normal. "Hey, Gemma. Is Jax there?"

"Oh, sure, honey. He's home. I'll go grab him right now for you. Is everything okay?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. The stinging and the burning in her eyes didn't help either.

"Yeah," she lied. "Everything's fine."

"Okay. Well, just hold on a sec. I'll go get him for you."

Judging by the hesitance in Gemma's voice, Dylan certainly hadn't convinced her that everything was actually fine, because it wasn't. And she hadn't fared any better with her boyfriend when he got on the phone, and when she asked him to come over but to make sure to come in through her window so Cash wouldn't know he was there. Her dad was on a shift at the hospital so that wouldn't be a problem, but she just didn't want to take any chances.

About ten minutes later, her nerves were a tangled bundle on the floor and she thought she might throw up again. She jumped a little on her bed when he knocked on the window, but she scrambled up to unlock it and slide it up so he could climb through. Then she found herself backpedalling until her calves hit the side of her bed.

Dylan sank down onto her mattress, unable to look him in the eye, and unable to stop the way her hands shook in her lap.

Jax was there in half a second, crouching down in front of her with his hands over hers, and his face twisted with everything she was terrified to see - concern, worry, _fear_. He lifted a hand to her cheek, and whispered, "Hey. _Hey_. What's wrong, doll? What's going on?"

His eyes widened when a tear slipped down her cheek, and he swiped it away with his thumb.

"Dylan," he tried again, his voice more urgent this time. "You gotta tell me what's going on here. Whatever it is - we'll figure it out, but I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

She nodded into his hands, but that didn't stop another tear from trailing down her cheek - he caught that one too, and right about now, it almost looked like _he_ was about to start crying too. But she had to tell him, she had to _talk_ to him, because he was the only person who could help her and the only person she needed.

"I…" her breath caught in her throat, and then she focused on his face, on the concern she found there, the devotion, the support, the _love,_ and maybe this wouldn't be as difficult or as painful as she thought it was going to be. "I need you to do something for me."

"Okay," he nodded immediately, his forehead still creased into a deep, disturbed frown. "Anything, doll."

"I have an appointment at a clinic in Lodi tomorrow at 1:00," Dylan murmured. God, she hardly even recognized the sound of her own voice. But she could do this - she _had_ to. He would understand, and he wouldn't abandon her. "Could you drive me?"

He shifted his weight as that frown on his gorgeous face only deepened. "Sure, Dylan. I can do that. What - " he gave himself a moment to swallow hard, "what's the appointment for?"

"I'm…" and then she just couldn't say it out loud, not to _him_. "I was supposed to get my period, and then I didn't," she told him instead, and her heart twisted violently when the truth slammed into him all at once.

The shock on his face, coupled with equal parts devastation, was amplified by the way his hand shook ever so slightly against her cheek. And then, in a move that shocked her, his head dipped down so he could press his lips into her hands. When his head shot back up to face her again, there was some resignation etched across his features that hadn't been there before - but he wasn't mad. He wasn't screaming at her for ruining everything. He wasn't breaking up with her either.

He was going to be there for her, just like she knew he would.

Jax shifted his weight again so he could pivot and sink down onto the bed next to her. When his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her to his chest, she melted against him, sagging with relief and exhaustion.

"Are you sure?" he murmured into her hair.

She nodded against his chest, and then his hand was in her hair to soothe her. "I took a test when I came home from school today. And I threw up twice this morning, and once yesterday morning too."

There was no point in spending any time or worry on how it had happened, and all the ways the protection she'd _thought_ Justin had used obviously didn't work. It was too late for that now. Much, much too late. All she could do now was focus on the present, and focus on what she could control, instead of what she couldn't.

Dylan could feel him nod into her hair now, but his arms tightened around her, cocooning her in his warmth and squeezing her tight.

"Okay," he murmured again. "And you're sure you wanna -"

"Jax," she cut in softly, lifting herself away from his chest just long enough to look him in the eye this time. "What else am I supposed to do? I can't…I just _can't,_ Jax. And if I tell my dad, he'll make me have it - I just know it, and then what do I do? I can't…I just _can't_. I don't see what other options I have."

The thing was, it didn't even feel like a choice because there _was_ no other choice. She was a junior in high school with a life - a _good,_ happy life - that would be completely upended and ruined if she didn't go to that appointment tomorrow. What would her future look like if she didn't? What would _Jax's_ future look like if she didn't? She knew he'd stand by her no matter what happened, and that he'd always be there for her - and maybe, when the time was right and she was ready, maybe this could happen a different way for her, with the right person, at a better time, when she actually had something to give somebody other than basketball shorts and a backpack full of notebooks and pencils.

Because that was all she really had in the world anyway.

Other than Jax, and her friends, she didn't have anything else. She just didn't.

"Okay," Jax's lips lifted wistfully, and he leaned in to brush them over her mouth in a gesture that sent another wave of tears down her cheeks. "So what do we do? Is there anything _I_ need to do or -"

"I just need you to drive me there and drive me back," she found herself smiling softly back at him. "I mean, we'll have to skip class after lunch, but they told me I can't drive myself. They said it only takes about 10 minutes, but then I have to stay for a little while afterwards until I feel better, and then you can drive me home."

Jax swallowed hard, nodding tightly as he pulled one of his hands away so he could scrub it over his face. "Okay. Can I…will I be able to stay? Will they let me sit with you?"

Now, she found herself leaning into him again, relying on his strength and his level-headedness to get them through this. "I asked already, and the nurse I talked to told me you can sit with me for the exam and in the recovery room, but that's it."

"Okay," he nodded again, his forehead creasing again with a deep frown, like the thought of her in the procedure room by herself was a little devastating to him. "I guess that makes sense. How much does it cost, doll?"

She pushed out a heavy sigh. "They said it's about $300. Maybe $400, depending on how many painkillers they need to give me and how long I need to sit in the recovery room with a nurse. I figure we could stop at an ATM on the way to Lodi, right? I can just use the money I got from -"

Jax just shook his head tersely. "Don't worry about it, Dylan. I got it."

"No, Jax," she leaned forward again to make sure he was really hearing her. "I'm not gonna let you use any of the money you've saved up for your bike to -"

"I said I _got_ it," he bit out. "Just lemme do this for you, okay? Other than driving you and holding your hand, this is the only fucking thing I can do to help you, so just lemme do it."

She chewed on her bottom lip, some new anxiety coursing through her, and he must've sensed it because he tugged her back into his arms with one around her shoulders and the other in her hair to bring her head down to his chest. His lips were in her hair now, and she held on to the comfort he offered her in his arms all the way through the next day, during their half hour drive to Lodi from school, and finally, right up until they stepped through the clinic's main door, hand in hand.

The nurse at the front desk looked vaguely familiar, but Dylan pushed that down as she stepped up to the desk with Jax right at her side, still holding onto her hand, and gave the nurse her name to get her appointment started. Jax was still right at her side when they sat in the waiting room, and again when they got called into an exam room by a different nurse.

He was even sort of, kind of a gentleman about it when she had to undress to put the exam gown on, and kept his eyes on the floor and his head to the side while she whipped her shirt off and pulled down her jeans, and then he helped her tie the gown in the back before squeezing her hand and pressing a quick kiss into her mouth with a reassuring grin.

Jax stepped back just in time before a knock echoed from the other side of the door and a kind-looking doctor came in with the same nurse who'd shown them to the exam room, and extended his hand to both of them.

"Hello, I'm Dr. O'Connor, and this is my nurse, Ellen. I'm gonna make this as quick and painless for you as I can, but first things first, we need to go over some things and then I have to do an ultrasound, okay? After that, we'll be all set to take you back to the procedure room."

Dylan's eyes flew to Jax, who was already squeezing her hand like he had a sixth sense about her emotions today. "And my boyfriend can't come with me for that part, right? I mean, I understand if he can't, but I'd really like him to be there too if we can do that."

"I understand," Dr. O'Connor smiled warmly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Unfortunately, our procedure rooms just aren't quite structured for that and we only have a certain amount of space between the equipment and the staff we need inside the room," and then his eyes flicked to Jax, affording him the same warmth he'd given Dylan, "You'll have to sit in the waiting room during the procedure, but a nurse will come get you as soon as possible to take you back to the recovery room."

Jax nodded tightly, even as Dylan felt her shoulders sag in resignation. She'd hoped maybe the nurse she'd talked to yesterday had been wrong about that, but it looked like she'd be on her own for the worst of it.

True to his word, Dr. O'Connor made the exam part as quick and painless as he could as he explained the procedure to them, answered the few questions she had, and then performed the ultrasound as quickly, and as gently, as possible. And then came the part she was dreading - the part where Jax had to leave and where she had to do this by herself.

Tears pricked her eyes when the nurse opened the exam door again to usher Jax back out to the waiting room, but not before he wrapped his arms around her to hold her against him for as long as they'd let him.

"Everything's gonna be alright," he whispered in her ear. "I'll just be right outside, okay?"

He pressed another quick kiss into her lips, lingering for just a few moments to hug her one more time, like he needed it too, and then he finally followed the nurse's lead out the door, throwing one more glance over his shoulder with a pained smile on his face.

She numbed herself to the rest of it until she could see him again. One of the nurses held her hand through the whole thing, murmuring words of encouragement to her, and telling Dylan to squeeze her hand if the pain got to be too much. Luckily enough, the painkillers they gave her ahead of time took care of most of it, and while there was some cramping, and she didn't like the way that felt, she figured it could've been worse.

About 10 minutes later, one of the nurses helped her settle back into a bed in the recovery room. There were four other women in the room with her, but there were curtains separating them and the room was big enough that she didn't really notice them anyway.

Now that it was all said and done, she didn't feel the way she thought she would feel. Sure, her body felt the way she figured it might - she was tired and sore in places she didn't want to be sore and the cramping she'd felt before still hadn't gone away. But that was it.

So, she pushed her head back against her pillow with her eyes squeezed shut until his familiar touch closed around her hand, and his lips brushed against her forehead.

"Hey," he grinned down at her. "How you feelin'?"

"Okay," Dylan shrugged against her pillow.

He tipped his chin to her now with a weak smile. "You sure, doll?"

It took her a moment, mostly because she just didn't know how to explain it. Maybe she _was_ okay. Maybe she really _wasn't._ And maybe all of that was okay too. She knew he'd understand, if only she could figure out how to put all that into words.

But he sat with her in the recovery room for the next hour or so, stepping away from her only when a nurse stopped by to check in on her pain level, and finally, they got the all clear to discharge, pay the bill, and go home. And during their drive back to town, she spent the whole ride tucked into his side in his truck, with his free arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders to hold her as tight as he could.

They'd decided to spend the rest of the day at Jax's house, mainly because they'd have relative privacy there. Gemma would be at T-M for most of the day anyway, and probably wouldn't be home from the shop until around seven or eight, by the time she shut everything down for the night, and even if Clay _was_ around the house, it wasn't like he'd ask questions or care that they were there.

He still held on tight to her and to her hand as he led her through his house with his free hand on the small of her back, and when they got to his bedroom, he didn't hesitate to yank the covers aside on his bed to make some room for her to settle in. Jax pulled the blankets up to tuck her in with the kind of gentle movements and careful consideration that made her eyes sting again.

But she didn't want to cry anymore. She was ready to look forward instead.

"Hey," Jax was grinning down at her now, with a sweetness and a tenderness in his voice and eyes that nearly lifted her right off his bed. "You hungry?"

"Sure, I could eat."

The grin on his face just widened. "A'ight, doll. You sit tight. I've got just the thing."

So, she took those few moments alone to stretch out in his bed and make herself comfortable, wincing a little at the stiffness in her abdomen, and when she opened her eyes again, she found Jax smiling down at her, and holding out a plate.

"Aw," she laughed, rolling over to grab the plate from him. "You made me a PB and J!"

"I can't guarantee it ranks as high as yours, but I think it's pretty good if I do say so myself."

"I guess that remains to be seen," Dylan laughed again as she took a big bite from the sandwich, and closed her eyes while she chewed. "Hmmm, pretty good, Jax. Pretty good."

He settled himself next to her on the bed, careful to keep a safe distance away from her with his back leaning up against the headboard, and when she finished her sandwich, he scooped up the plate and dropped it onto the floor. But he kept his position on the bed, about a foot away from her, and still on top of the covers, when he grabbed the remote and handed it to her.

"Here, doll. This is the _one_ time you can put on anything you want and I won't say a word."

"Hmm," she pretended to think it over. Right now, they just needed to watch something mindless, something they'd seen a million times and could quote word for word if they wanted. "I guess I'd better choose wisely. You might as well put on, _duuuh duh, duuuh duh, duuuh duh…"_

"Aw, _hell_ yeah," Jax laughed. "Excellent choice."

He jumped up from the bed to grab the DVD from the tall stack next to his TV, and popped it into the player, then he shifted on his heel with a smirk, " _Sometimes that shark looks right at ya… and the thing about a shark is he's got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll's eyes…"_

Then he jumped back onto the bed with a playful yell, still careful not to jump right on top of her and jostle her too much, but just enough to lift her up and pull her into his arms with his mouth on her neck.

"You asked for it, doll," he tsked at her.

"You can't call me _doll_ right after all that," Dylan laughed. "That's so weird!"

"Don't care, doll," Jax just smirked, leaning over her to drop a few playful kisses on her neck and her cheek.

"Okay, whatever," she just shook her head at him, and then shifted just enough so she could bring a hand up to brush against the blonde whiskers on his cheek. "You can come under the covers with me, you know. I don't mind."

He obviously didn't need to be told twice, and he made quick work of shrugging out of his black Samcro hoodie and tossing it onto his floor, before sliding under the blankets with her and gently tugging her in closer just as the movie started. She snuggled into him, desperate for his warmth and his comfort and his support, and he gave it all to her, making sure to keep his hands away from her stomach, and his lips always near some part of her.

They watched the movie in silence for about 10 minutes before she felt Jax shift and brush his lips against her forehead.

"How you feelin', doll?" he murmured. "You okay?"

It was almost as if he knew the torrent of thoughts whirling around in her head - she might've tried to jump up to try to catch one if not for the cramping in her stomach.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I guess I don't feel the way I thought I would feel."

"What do you mean?"

Dylan lifted her head off his shoulder so she could look him in the eye. "I thought I would feel sadder. Maybe more upset by the whole thing, if that makes sense?"

Jax nodded carefully, his forehead creasing a little in thought as he listened and hung on her every word.

"I just feel…" she trailed off, giving herself a moment before finally setting herself free. "I just feel _relieved_ , you know? Just…like this huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and now I can breathe again."

He nodded again and pressed his lips into her cheek.

"All I know is that I never want to have to go back to a place like that ever again. For _so_ many reasons."

Jax nodded yet again, and then his lips curled up wistfully. "I think I know what you mean. And I gotta say, I think bein' there today with you kinda turned me off sex for awhile, you know? So I'm with ya - we can wait until I'm _at least_ a full member of the club for all I fuckin' care. I know accidents happen all the time - just look at me, right? - but that doesn't mean it has to happen to us if we can help it."

"So you mean to tell me you're _really_ okay with not having sex again for, what, two years? Three years? Come on, Jax," Dylan huffed out a laugh, and gave him a playful shove.

"No, you come on, doll," he smirked down at her, his ocean blue eyes glinting slyly. "There are _plenty_ of other things we can do. Plenty of _fun_ things that have the exact same results - but without the risk of us ending up in this position again before we're ready. Just you wait, doll. I've got plans for you."

"Oh, okay. I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

Up until now, he hadn't really mentioned the physical aspect of their relationship. While they'd only been official for three weeks, they'd spent _a lot_ of that time sneaking off to make out somewhere and anywhere that gave them enough privacy - whether it was in his truck or she was sneaking him in through her bedroom window before her dad came home from a shift at the hospital - they'd always managed to find plenty of opportunities. And because of that, he'd also had plenty of opportunities to push things a little further and test the waters of what she might let him do, and when she might push his hands away. So far, he'd mostly kept his hands on top of her clothes, and she wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

"Hey, doll?" Jax's soft voice called out to her.

"Yeah?"

"Did it hurt?"

She nodded into his shoulder, and his lips brushed her forehead as he tucked her in closer to him.

"Does it _still_ hurt?"

"A little bit," she murmured. "It kinda feels like when I have cramps on my period."

"Do you need somethin' then? Like some meds or somethin'? I can -"

"It's alright, Jax," she smiled into his shoulder and then tilted her chin up to get a better look at him. "Thank you, though."

He nodded again, and then pushed out a heavy sigh. "I gotta say, Dylan, you were really brave today. You really held it together - way better than I would've. I mean, when I had to sit out in that waiting room without you, I felt like I was gonna hyperventilate I was so fucking scared for you. Those 10 minutes might as well have been 10 hours."

"I don't know if that was me being brave," she just lifted a shoulder. "I just…I guess I just did what I had to do, and now I think I just have to move forward, you know?"

His lips curled up at the corners, and then she felt them against her neck as he dipped his face closer so he could press his cheek into hers.

"Hey, Dylan?"

"Yeah, Jax?"

"I love you," he murmured.

She turned her head just enough to meet him in the eye, and felt herself smile back at him.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - So I know that was all kinds of heavy for a lot of different reasons. I tried to be as realistic as possible (and without getting political - I didn't include this subplot for that reason, but it's part of life, and sex isn't without consequences). This experience, though, is the kind of thing that will bond them together for life beyond their friendship and beyond their new relationship. Jax was really there for her when she needed him in a big way, and regardless of how you feel about the choice she made, I think they both handled the situation with maturity beyond their age (not to mention with love too - nothing about what they experienced was easy, especially given the fact that Jax wasn't the one who got her pregnant in the first place). This event will also start the slow snowball of things that will eventually lead to their separation, as we'll see in the next chapter.
> 
> We have three more chapters left of flashbacks before we get back to the present time. Thank you as always for reading! I'm looking forward to your hearing your thoughts on this chapter!


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

_The Next Day, December 2001  
_ _Sixteen Years Old_

_For the life of me  
_ _I cannot remember  
_ _What made us think that we were wise  
_ _And we'd never compromise  
_ _-The Verve Pipe_

Dylan squeezed her eyes shut, and shut her Algebra II textbook with a huff. As it turned out, she'd missed a pop quiz yesterday when she skipped out with Jax, and her teacher had also proceeded to assign what seemed like 10 pages of work problems… she wasn't the greatest at math, and usually fared much better in her English and journalism classes, and this little setback wasn't exactly helping.

So, now she had to scramble to play catch-up. Christmas break was coming up, and that meant Jax's 17th birthday was right around the corner, and she didn't want to do anything - school-related or otherwise - that might put a wrench in her ability to spend as many seconds of break with her boyfriend as she could.

She smiled softly at just the _thought_ of him. Yesterday could've easily been the hardest and worst day of her life. It hadn't been _great_ , by any means, but without Jax, and his warmth and his love and his support, it would've been far worse. Unbearable and excruciating, even. She knew how lucky she was - the fact that he understood, that he didn't judge her, that he didn't try to talk her into or out of anything. He was just _there_ , and that had been exactly what she needed yesterday.

 _And_ he'd told her he loved her.

That wasn't a surprise. And she'd known she loved him too - probably for a lot longer than she really knew. But after yesterday, and the way he'd taken care of her, protected her, and just _loved_ her exactly the way she'd needed him to, there was no doubt in her mind that _he_ was exactly what she needed, all the time, for the rest of her life.

He'd proven that to her yesterday, even if that hadn't been his intention.

Jax Teller was the love of her life.

And _that_ thought had her smiling again, even when a knock on the door pulled her out of her revelry. Her dad stuck his head in the doorway for a moment, and then he let himself in before gently shutting the door behind him. He flashed her a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, Dylan," her dad started. And she didn't like the uneasiness she found on his face, or the way he was having trouble meeting her in the eye. "You mind taking a break from your homework for a second? There's something we need to talk about."

Dylan shifted in her hair and propped her elbow up on her desk to watch him more closely. He still couldn't quite seem to look her in the eye, and instead, seemed to be looking anywhere and everywhere except where she sat, with her homework strewn all over her desk.

"Sure, Dad."

He was backpedaling now until his calves hit the side of her bed, and then he sank down on the mattress, running a hand over his mouth before he finally spoke again, "So school called me and said that you skipped all your afternoon classes yesterday."

Now it was her turn to draw her eyes to the floor, and anywhere that wasn't on him. Nervousness and agitation gnawed away at her because she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way in his presence _._

"Okay."

He winced a little, as if her response had physically wounded him somehow, and he tried a smile again that looked more like a grimace. "Do you have anything you need to tell me, Dylan?"

And then, and _then_ \- realization slammed through her. He _knew_. She didn't know how or why, but he _knew_. And as her heart swam in her stomach, and her breath choked in her throat, all she could do was flail around for some kind of self-preservation, some kind of deflection to throw him off the trail as the walls closed around her.

"No, Dad," she tried.

But the slight tremor in her voice wasn't any more convincing to him than it was to her.

His shoulders sagged, disappointment rolling off him in waves, and she swallowed hard, suddenly frantic for the nearest exit. Maybe she could just jump out the window and sprint to Jax's house? Her dad was old now with some grey hair and everything, and he'd never be able to catch her before she got there.

"Dylan," his voice was more urgent now, tighter and firmer too. "I'm not upset, sweetheart. I promise I'm not - but you need to _talk_ to me. You _can_ talk to me, but we can't do that if you're not honest with me. Why did you skip school yesterday?"

The thing was, he might've _said_ he wasn't upset, but it sure didn't sound that way. Everything about his demeanor right now, the tight square of his shoulders, the way he just couldn't seem to look at her, the hoarseness in his voice…that seemed a little bit like he actually _was_ upset.

And she'd never been a very good liar, at least not like this, not right to his face. If he already knew the answer to his question, why was he even bothering to ask?

Her silence must've been all he needed to hear because he pushed out another heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face.

"Alright, Dylan. Alright," he sighed again, but he still couldn't quite look at her. "One of my nurses in the ER also volunteers every once and a while at the free clinic in Lodi and she was there yesterday. She told me that she saw you there, with Jax, and that you had an appointment. She also told me what kind of appointment it was."

When Dylan's lips parted, but came up empty, he held up a hand with tired eyes.

"Listen to me - what she did was wrong, okay? She had no right to tell me that about you and she _shouldn't_ have. She broke the law when she did that, and I reported her, and she's been fired now, okay? She thought she was doing the right thing by letting me know what was going on with you, but it wasn't her business to tell. But the problem is I _do_ know now. And now that I know, I can't just forget that I know. We _do_ need to talk about it."

Dylan sucked in a sharp breath as new tears stung her eyes. This wasn't what she'd wanted. And she'd thought it was _over_ , and that she could move on now, but it looked like her dad wasn't going to let her do that just yet.

"I don't want to talk about it, Dad. There's nothing to say."

Her dad's face twisted in pain. "No, I think there's plenty to say, starting with you telling me why you felt like you had to do this on your own."

"I wasn't on my own," she whispered.

But that didn't seem to help. In fact, it only seemed to make it worse.

"Right," her dad bit out through gritted teeth. "You didn't get yourself into that mess on your own either. Jax certainly played his part, didn't he?"

"No, he -"

He just held up a hand, shaking his head violently. "I don't want to talk about your boyfriend right now. We'll deal with that later. Right now, I need you to explain to me why you felt like you just couldn't come to me with this. You're _sixteen_ years old, and that was the kind of decision you really needed to think through because it's the kind of thing you can't take back."

"I _did_ think it through, Dad. I really did, and I'm sorry if you don't agree with what I did -"

"That's not what I'm saying," he cut in quickly. "I'm not trying to judge you, and I'm not upset with you about the choice you made either. That was your choice to make. But I _am_ upset that you felt like you had to make that decision on your own, without talking to me first, and I _am_ upset that you skipped school, and that you're choosing to keep things from me."

But wasn't the answer in the question? How _could_ she have gone to him? He was her _dad_ , and because of that, he was the last person she wanted to go to. Especially when she had Jax, and when she'd known he would help her and take care of her without any judgment.

Her dad said he wasn't trying to judge her, but his tone and his face said otherwise.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she murmured helplessly. "And I didn't do it to upset you either. I just don't see what the point of this is - it's over, Dad. Why are we talking about it now? There's nothing to talk about."

"Alright," her dad nodded tightly. "Well, we obviously need to have a discussion about safe sex and how to use protection correctly, _every_ time. I don't know when you and Jax started to have sex and I don't need to, but he's just as responsible for this as you are."

Now, Dylan shook her head furiously, unable to listen to him put any of this on Jax's shoulders. "Dad, no - you don't understand. He wasn't…"

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "He wasn't _what_?"

She swallowed hard. How was she supposed to explain this to him? To say the words out loud that she knew would just break his heart even more?

"He wasn't the one who…" Dylan trailed off there, hoping that would be enough to get the point across.

It wasn't.

"Dylan," his voice called out to her low and tight, with some anger there, too, that hadn't been there before. "You don't need to protect him. I know he was at that clinic with you yesterday. I know he paid for your procedure. I'm glad he took responsibility for his own actions too, but do _not_ sit here and make excuses for that boy. Do _not_ sit here and lie to my face, Dylan."

She bristled at that last part, particularly the way he'd said _that boy_ like it was a dirty word.

"I'm not lying, Dad."

That didn't help either. In fact, his face just seemed to turn redder and redder, and his eyes just grew harder and harder the longer they sat here in her bedroom, staring at each other like they didn't recognize the other.

"Well, if Jax wasn't the one who got you pregnant, then who did? Why else would he take you to that clinic and pay for everything yesterday if he wasn't the one who got you in trouble?"

She winced from the impact of that first question and decided to just sidestep it for as long as humanly possible. And still, his words and his accusations swam in her head - he'd referred to the decision she'd made yesterday as both a _mess_ and _trouble_ all in the span of about 30 seconds, and she just didn't know how to process that yet.

"He took me to that clinic because he's my boyfriend _and_ my best friend and because he wanted to be there for me, which is more than I can say for you right now, Dad."

"Oh, don't you put this on me, sweetheart. That's not the right way to go about this and you know it. You don't need to protect him. You _shouldn't_ be protecting him. He obviously didn't take care of you the way he should've, at least not initially. And I know you think you love him, and I know he thinks he loves you, but that doesn't mean he knows the first thing about how to be right for you or _good_ for you."

"What are you _talking_ about?" she just shook her head furiously. "Jax hasn't done anything wrong. He _helped_ me. He was _there_ for me. He _loves_ me. He was just being a good boyfriend, Dad, because that's what he is."

Now, he just stared back at her like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, like he didn't know who he was talking to.

"You know, Dylan," he murmured as he ran a hand over his face. "I don't know what's been going on with you and your brother lately. These last few months, I feel like things are starting to get out of control around here - you getting into that fight after your basketball game, getting suspended, both of you running around at all hours of the night, always in and out of your friends' houses and never actually _here_ , and last night, I had to go bail your brother out of jail because him and Opie got picked up for public intoxication and disorderly conduct - not to mention the underage drinking fine he's gonna get on top of that too. Did you know about that?"

She shook her head with a deep frown crossing her face.

"Of course you didn't," he smiled tightly. "You were otherwise preoccupied yesterday. And I'm sure the only reason Jax wasn't brought into the precinct with your brother and Opie last night was because he was with _you_ all night, wasn't he?"

Dylan didn't bother to respond to that because they both already knew the answer.

"I think maybe it's a good idea for you and Cash to put some distance between you and your friends for a little while. Focus on school. You need to get a part-time job somewhere anyway now that basketball's done for the season - and _don't_ tell me you're just gonna get a job at T-M. There's more to life than that club and those people, Dylan, and there's more to life than that boy too."

When she just shifted nervously and uncomfortably in her chair, that only made him lean forward and charge ahead.

"I'm worried, sweetheart. _Really_ worried - the decisions you make now will follow you for the rest of your life. And you don't get any do-overs either, Dylan. I think you and Jax should take a breather for now, give each other some space in light of yesterday, and then -"

"Dad," she cut in, panic-stricken and desperate to make him understand. "It's not what you think. He didn't…he wasn't the one who - Dad, just, please listen to me, okay? I don't need space from Jax. I don't _want_ space from him. He hasn't done anything wrong and I really don't appreciate that you keep trying to blame him for all of this, and when you're not listening -"

"You're sixteen years old," he cut in sharply, his face twisting in frustration and pain. "You don't know what you need, and you certainly don't know what you _want_ either. And _I_ really don't appreciate you lying for him. How many times do I need to tell you that you don't need to protect him? You _shouldn't_ be protecting him because he's just as guilty as you are. You should be thinking long and hard right now about what you want your future to look like - because if that future is with _him_ …sweetheart, I'm not so sure I like what I see, not anymore."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"I'm saying I think he's a bad influence on you, Dylan. Opie too - but Jax is the ringleader of all this, isn't he? His mother has him all set him up to be the future president of that club and now he's setting you up to be his future old lady too, isn't he? You have _no idea_ what you'd be signing yourself up for, what you'd be getting into if you stick with him and ride that out. And you don't know because you're just a kid, and you haven't seen what that clubhouse is really like and you don't understand what that club really does to make its money, and you don't _really_ understand what being an old lady to a one-percenter biker _really_ means. It's not something you really want, Dylan. Or, at least it's not something you _should_ want. You're better than that. You _deserve_ better than that."

Tears stung her eyes, but she pushed them down through furious movements. How could he say that? He'd been friends with JT, he was still friends with Gemma - or at least, it seemed like he was. Why did he all of a sudden have an issue with the things they'd always known about and had grown up with? What difference did it make now?

"Now, this is my fault too. I've let you spend too much time over there, and I've let you run around with them for too long. Cash too - and he and I are going to be having this same discussion, just so you know. But that does _not_ mean you need to throw away your future and protect someone who doesn't need your protection."

Maybe if she just focused on that last part, and made him see that he was wrong, he might change his mind about the rest of it.

"Dad, I'm not protecting him. He didn't do anything wrong, and he was just trying to help me."

His face tightened, turning even more crimson than before. "I do _not_ appreciate you lying to me. There's no reason for it."

"But he didn't -"

"Alright, Dylan," his eyes narrowed now. "If it wasn't him, then who was it?"

But how could she look him in the eye and tell him she'd just grabbed some random boy at some random party and let him do things to her that she hadn't even _liked_? And that the result of all that, which had absolutely been more trouble than it was worth, found her lying on her back in that procedure room yesterday? How was she supposed to tell her dad that and expect him to ever look at her the same way again?

"Who was it?"

Her lips parted, but she couldn't speak. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to speak again.

"So what if I went over there and asked him? What do you think he'd say? I bet _he_ wouldn't lie to me, not if he was smart."

Fresh panic rushed through her and she leapt to her feet, which must've been the exact reaction he was looking for to call her bluff, even though it _wasn't_ a bluff and she _wasn't_ lying. She just didn't know how to explain that without having to tell him the truth.

"Fine," he told her as he rose to his feet. "If you won't answer me, then I'll ask someone who will."

He stalked out of her bedroom and headed down the hallway, with Dylan right on his heels. Tears streamed down her face as she made a mad grab for him, desperate to stop him, desperate to keep him from doing this and just making everything so much worse - but she'd gone completely numb now too. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, didn't know how to stop him. That followed her all the way out to the garage, when her dad shot her a furious glare from over his shoulder as he hopped into his car.

She knew exactly where he was going, and she raced to the car, jumping into the passenger seat right before he took off down the driveway.

"Dad, please, don't do this. I can explain. Please, just…don't do this."

"You give me a straight answer, and I'll pull this car around and we can go home. But I need an answer, and I need you to stop lying to me."

"Dad, it wasn't him. _That's_ the answer. That's the only answer I can give you, and you have to just listen to me and _stop_ , okay? Just _stop._ "

He just shook his head, twisting his hands around the steering wheel, and he threw her a disappointed glance. "I can't believe you, Dylan. I don't understand you either. This isn't you - this isn't who you are."

"Maybe it is, Dad," she whispered through her tears.

And maybe he just needed to figure out a way to accept that.

But he just shook his head again and gritted his teeth, determined to get what he thought was the truth, to force her to own up to her lies - even if he had no idea what he was talking about - and when he pulled into the Tellers' driveway, all she could do was run after him, still tugging his arm in a futile attempt at pulling him back to the car.

He pounded furiously on the front door, ignoring the way she yanked on his arm to try to get his attention.

"Dad, please," she pleaded, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Please don't do this. Not like this. Can we just go home? Please?"

Her dad turned his head, his resolve momentarily wavering as he took in the sight of her tears. "Who was it then?"

"I answered you already," she begged him to understand. "I did. And that's all you need to know. Please, can we just leave it at that? Can we just -"

But she didn't get a chance to finish that because Gemma had already swung open the door, her dark eyes widening with alarm at the scene in front of her.

"What's going on here?"

"Gemma," her dad nodded. "I need to speak to your son."

That only made Gemma's eyes widen even more as her mouth opened and closed in surprise. Finally, she gripped the edge of the door even tighter, holding her ground in the doorway. "What's going on here, Carter? Why do you need to talk to Jax?"

"Well," he shot her a grim smile. "It seems your son got my daughter pregnant and then took her to get an abortion yesterday. Don't worry, he paid for it like the gentleman he is, but my daughter here," he gestured to Dylan at his side, "seems to think she needs to protect your son and lie for him."

Dylan's face twisted in desperation, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, just as Jax appeared in the living room and skidded to a stop when he saw what was happening at his front door.

"Dylan?" he frowned, and he took a few cautious steps closer to her with an arm outstretched to her. "What's going on, Dr. Shaw?"

Now, her dad just glared daggers at Jax as Gemma shifted on her heel to face her son, a deep and disturbed line creasing her forehead.

"Jax," Gemma murmured in a hushed voice. "Did you…did you take Dylan to get an abortion yesterday?"

Jax's lips parted in shock. He stilled in the living room, his ocean blue eyes flying to collide with Dylan, and she furiously shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Jax," Dylan whispered. "I tried to tell him. I tried to explain it, but he won't listen to me. He thinks that you -"

Suddenly, her dad sprung into action, stepping around Gemma and heading right for Jax until he stopped about two inches away from her boyfriend's face.

"So are _you_ gonna stand here and lie to me too? Someone needs to tell me the truth here, and they need to do it now."

"Now, just hold on here," Gemma called out from behind him. "Let's all calm down for a second and talk about this."

"I'm done with talking, Gemma," her dad told her from over his shoulder, but his eyes never left Jax, who'd frozen right where he stood. "I want someone to answer me."

"Look, Dr. Shaw," Jax started in a hoarse voice, holding up his hands helplessly. "Dylan's not lying to you, okay?"

All that did was spur her dad forward until he had a fistful of Jax's black Samcro T-shirt, shoving him into the wall behind them. Jax didn't fight back, though - instead, he just held his hands up, his blue eyes wide and stunned but his movements calm, and he just let her dad hold him into the wall.

"Carter, you take your hands off my son right now!"

But he just ignored Gemma, who'd sprung into action and was now right in her dad's face as she moved to yank Jax from his grasp.

"No, Gemma, let's hear him say it, huh? Let's hear these kids tell us the truth for once."

At least his grip loosened enough to let Jax fall back against the wall with a heavy thud, but he refused to let Dylan through, even as she struggled to fight past the adults in the room so she could get to her boyfriend.

"So if it wasn't you, then who was it? Huh?" her dad bit out through clenched teeth. "Are you trying to say my daughter cheated on you, is that it? Because I don't think that's a road you really wanna go down with me right now. You took her to that appointment. You paid for that procedure. You sat with her in that clinic. Don't you _dare_ try to put all of this on her without taking responsibility for your own actions."

By now, Gemma had stilled off to the side, a hand covering her mouth, and just as Dylan moved to try to get around her dad again, she heard Jax's hoarse voice.

"Alright, Dr. Shaw. Alright," he nodded helplessly, his blue eyes swimming with resignation as they flicked to Dylan from over her dad's shoulder. "I take full responsibility for all of this. It _was_ my fault, and I _am_ to blame, okay? Dylan didn't do anything wrong. She didn't cheat on me. _I'm_ responsible. Just me."

"Jax…" Gemma exhaled heavily, running a hand over her face and then she glanced over her shoulder at Dylan and shook her head with disappointment. "What is going _on_?"

And finally, that broke the dam inside her. Tears slipped freely down her cheeks, and she shook her head furiously. No…she couldn't let him do this for her. She couldn't let him take the fall for something he didn't do and had had no control over.

"So this is how you take care of my daughter?" her dad murmured, shaking his head with disgust. "This is how you treat her? You knock her up, get it taken care of without a second thought or even a discussion, and now what? You got what you wanted from her, so now you drop her and move on to the next girl? Isn't that what you do? You know…I made a mistake - trusting her with you. I don't know what I was thinking, and I should've known better. That's my fault."

The light in Jax's eyes dimmed with every word out of her dad's mouth, and his shoulders sagged against the wall as he scrubbed his face with both hands.

"Dr. Shaw," Jax told him hoarsely. "I didn't mean to disappoint you, and I'm sorry about that. But it's not like that with Dylan, okay? Please…I just need you to understand that. I love her. You know that. I've _told_ you that. I would never hurt her that way or _any_ way. But I'm sorry about all of this - it really is my fault, no matter what anyone else says."

When he dragged his gaze back up to Dylan, his eyes softened and he shot her a resigned smile, as if to tell her, _This is fine, I don't care, just let me do this for you._

But it wasn't fine. And she couldn't let him do this for her.

"Dad," she whispered, her voice shaking uncontrollably. "He's just doing exactly what you thought I was doing for him - he's lying to you to protect me. It wasn't him. It happened before we started dating," the words weren't any easier to push out as she carried on, and as her dad looked at her now with tears shining in his eyes, "It was just some boy from school that didn't matter, at some party that didn't matter either."

Jax's lips lifted softly to support her, just like he always did, and he nodded, signaling that he accepted what she had to do right now. Her dad, on other hand, was having a harder time with that.

"I went to Jax because I knew he would help me and that he wouldn't judge me," Dylan's voice was still tremoring, but it was getting a little bit stronger now too as the truth poured out of her. "I made the appointment on my own. And I was going to pay for it on my own too, but Jax wouldn't let me because he's a good boyfriend and because he loves me and I love him. It was a stupid mistake with a stupid boy at a stupid party, and I just want to move on from it."

Her dad's entire body seemed to sag with defeat and disappointment, and his face - which had seemed to age about 15 years over the last 10 minutes - twisted violently and desperately, like he was barely hanging onto his control.

"Carter," Gemma's hoarse, pained voice called out from behind them. "I think she's telling us the truth. We talked about that - Dylan and I did - right before Jax and Dylan started dating, and she told me it happened a few weeks before, so the timing makes sense to me."

Now, Gemma shifted on her heel so she could get a better look at Dylan, and then at Jax, who was reaching out to grab Dylan's hand. Her eyes swam with worry and concern, but the compassion Dylan saw there gave her hope too.

"Oh, honey," Gemma whispered. "You could've told me. I understand why you went to Jax first, but you still could've told me. You both could've."

"I think there were a lot of things they could've done differently," her dad finally spoke again, nodding tightly. "I just don't want you to have regrets, Dylan. And we should've talked about it beforehand, so you understood the decision you were making and how it might impact you going forward. There was a way to handle it, and a way _not_ to handle it."

Gemma shifted anxiously a few feet away from her, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "I think they handled it the best way they knew how, Carter. And what's done is done. Dylan is right - they should just move on from this now."

Her dad chose to just ignore that, and instead, chose to focus his attention right on her. "You didn't need to skip school or keep things from me. I would've made sure you were excused from your classes yesterday if you'd asked me to. Why didn't you just _talk_ to me, Dylan?"

She felt herself gravitating closer to Jax, just needing to be near him, needing his strength and his support right now just as much as she had yesterday, and he squeezed her hand as he gently tugged her even closer.

At this point, there was no use in stalling or even lying. He knew more than enough - more than she'd ever wanted him to know - and so, she finally looked her dad in the eye and told him the whole truth.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know I'd been with someone who wasn't my boyfriend - even if Jax wasn't my boyfriend at the time. I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me now. And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd just try to talk me into having it, and I couldn't do that, Dad. I just couldn't."

Her dad squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head to the side like the weight of all this was just too painful to bear, and he ran a hand over his face.

"Oh, Dylan," he whispered. "Is that really what you thought?"

All she could do was nod because that was what she'd really thought, and _still_ thought. Because no matter what he said, his actions today told her something different.

But still, her dad tilted his head to the side again, his face twisted with anguish. "You're breaking my heart, baby."

Now, she felt Jax's arm slip around her shoulders to tuck her in closer, reminding her he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere, and that he wouldn't leave her to face this alone.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

He nodded tersely, his eyes on the floor, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer and more resolute. "I know, Dylan. And I meant what I said before we came over here. I think the two of you need to take a breather for now, give each other some space -"

" _What_?" Jax cried out, jerking his eyes to his mother in a panic, and Dylan could feel his entire body coil like he was readying himself to fight. "You can't do that, Dr. Shaw. You can't -"

"Carter, I don't think that's necessary," Gemma jumped in, now moving in closer to try to put herself in between them all in the hallway. "I think they've handled this a lot more maturely than you want to admit here, and I don't think they're even having sex yet. There's no reason to keep them apart if they want to be together."

"It's not just about them having sex, Gemma," her dad bit out.

Dylan shrank back at that, pushing the side of her face into Jax's shoulder. How were they just supposed to stand there while their parents talked about them like this right in front of them?

"They're getting too serious, too fast," her dad went on, almost as if Jax and Dylan weren't standing right there, like they weren't even in the room.

"They're kids, Carter. That's what they do. And they love each other, whether you like it or not."

Her dad just shrugged that off, but not before throwing Jax a dark look from over his shoulder. "That may be true, but I don't like the way your son is grooming my daughter to take over for you as queen of the clubhouse."

That jerked Jax back to life, and his lips parted to protest as his hand squeezed around her more tightly. "What are you _talking_ about? What does that even mean?"

But Gemma seemed to understand, and she narrowed her dark eyes at Dylan's dad with her hands on her hips.

"Oh, I see," she nodded, her voice low and tight like a growl. "We're good enough to baby-sit your kids when it's convenient for you, and we're good enough to help you raise them when you're too busy at the hospital to be a real father. But the second it's clear to you, just like it is to me, where things are headed between our kids, suddenly we're biker trash? Suddenly my son, whose only crime here seems to be loving your daughter and being there for her when she needed him most - suddenly he's some kind of master manipulator who's leading her astray?"

"That's not what I said," her dad shot back. "And you know how grateful I am for the way you've stepped in to help me over the years. I don't know what I would've done when Dylan and Cash were younger if they hadn't been able to go to your house after school."

He held up his hands as if that would somehow prove to Gemma that he really was grateful for all those times Dylan and her brother had spent at the Tellers' house after school, not to mention all those times Gemma had picked them up from school and taken Dylan to and from basketball practices and games when her dad couldn't get away from the hospital long enough to do it himself.

"But that being said," he went on. "They're getting _too_ serious, _too_ fast, Gemma. They need to slow down before this gets even more out of hand and they make more mistakes they can't take back. And I don't think Dylan - or Jax, for that matter - has the slightest idea of what being an old lady in that clubhouse really means. I'm not gonna say it out loud because the kids are standing right here, but you and I both know that if Jax and Dylan's relationship turns out to be anything like yours and John's because of what goes on in that clubhouse…I know I don't want that for her and you shouldn't want that for her either."

Gemma's eyes narrowed again into dangerous dark slits. "I'm gonna pretend - for _now_ \- that you didn't just say that shit to me in my own house. And it's not about what _we_ want, Carter. It's about what _she_ wants. It's about what _Jax_ wants. And trying to keep them apart is only going to make it worse."

"They're just kids, Gemma. They don't know what they want."

Gemma's lips parted to respond, but her dad just shook his head, and he grabbed Dylan's free hand to yank her away. But Jax didn't give up, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her tighter.

"Please don't do this, Dr. Shaw," Jax murmured. "I love her and she loves me. Please don't try to keep her away from me."

"That's not what I want, Dad," Dylan added as new tears pricked her eyes. She could see exactly where this was going now, and her dad was about to erupt.

As it turned out, that eruption came about a moment later when her dad gritted his teeth and tugged her out of Jax's grip, even as he hung on for dear life, and even as Dylan fought and struggled against him.

"Dylan, we're going home. From here on out, you and Jax need to give each other some space. I know you don't understand right now, but this is just for the best - for _both_ of you. In a few months, we can re-evaluate, but until it's time to have that conversation, I don't want you anywhere near him."

She shook her head furiously, desperate to make him understand, and she looked frantically to Jax, who still hadn't let go of her hand, even as her dad pulled her back to the front door. Determination and defiance flickered across his face as he finally let her hand slip away, and for a split second, she thought she saw Jax's lips curl back at her dad in challenge.

"No!" Dylan cried out. "This isn't fair, Dad! You can't do this - you can't do this to me!"

"Oh, I'm well within my rights to do what's best for you, Dylan, even if you don't see it that way right now."

Now, Jax stepped back, putting more space in between them as her dad pulled her to the door, and he shot her a tight nod.

"It's okay," he called out to her with another tight, determined nod. "Go home. It's gonna be okay."

The resolve and the stubborn commitment she found flickering across his face stalled her steps, but then she understood what he was trying to tell her. Still, everything was going to be different now, wasn't it? Yesterday had been really hard and really stressful, but today felt like her dad was jumping up and down on her chest, crushing her over and over again.

It didn't even feel real.

Getting into her dad's car, watching Jax stand at his front door with Gemma right behind him with her hand on his shoulder, knowing that nothing was ever going to be the same between them or between their parents and knowing that was her fault, driving the short two blocks back to their house, stomping back to her room and slamming the door in her dad's face…none of it felt real.

Just a bad dream that she'd wake up from.

Some relief came about an hour later, when her cell phone buzzed on top of her desk. She frowned at the caller ID, seeing that Opie's house landline was calling her, but she hit the answer button anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hey, doll," Jax's smooth voice greeted her from the other side of the line. "You okay?"

Her answer was blunt and brief: "No."

But he chuckled lightly through the phone, as if all of this was just a bump in the road, as if all of this was really no big deal at all, and a fresh wave of hope flowed through her.

"I know. Hey, you think you can sneak out your window anytime soon? Head over to Ope's - his basement door is open and ready for ya."

Dylan chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought before hurrying over to her door to press her ear to it. She listened for a few moments to gauge what was going on in Cash's room across the hall, and nodded to herself.

"Yeah, I think so. My dad's talking to Cash right now. He's giving him the same speech he just gave us, but I think I can get away without him knowing I'm gone."

"A'ight. Come over as soon as you can. Be careful."

"Okay," she smiled into the phone. "I will. I love you."

"I love you too, doll. I'll see ya soon."

She waited a minute or two, just to be absolutely sure that her dad and Cash were still deep in their argument about his choice in friends and his current choices in general, and then she slipped out her bedroom window, and jogged across her yard, crossing the short distance to get to her next-door neighbor's house, and opened the patio door to his walkout basement.

Dylan heard him before she saw him: "'Sup, doll."

And then she launched herself into his arms, and his lips were in her hair, on her cheek, and then her other cheek, and finally, her lips as both his hands closed around her face to draw her in deeper.

"It's okay," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest. "Everything's gonna be fine. Nothin' that happened today matters - there's nothin' and nobody that's gonna keep you away from me."

Dylan pulled her face away so she could look at him, and she smiled into his touch as his thumb brushed across her cheek to catch a stray tear.

"I'm so sorry, Jax. I tried to stop him - I tried to make him understand, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"I know," he nodded tightly and then he leaned down to press their foreheads together. "How did he find out anyway?"

"That nurse who checked us in yesterday was a volunteer - she works at the hospital with my dad and told him. She wasn't supposed to do that, but I think she thought she was helping or something. My dad got her fired for it, but…" she trailed off as her breath caught on that last part, "I never wanted him to know."

Jax's lips twisted into a sad, resigned smile. "I know you didn't. I'm so sorry, doll."

"Well, _I'm_ sorry you felt like you had to lie for me. You didn't have to do that, you know. I should've just told him the truth from the beginning and then none of this would've happened."

"Hey," his hands closed around her face, and he brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Nothing that happened today, or yesterday for that matter, is your fault. I wasn't lying to him when I said it was my fault because it _was_. If I hadn't been such an asshole to you and if I had just been honest with myself and with you just one fucking time before that party, none of this would've happened. It _is_ my fault, doll, and I'll take all that blame because you don't deserve any of it."

Tears pricked her eyes, and she had to look away for a moment. Looking at him now was just too much to bear.

"I didn't know you felt that way, Jax."

The rough hands around her face tilted her chin up to force her to look at him again, and his lips spread apart in a soft smile. "Now you know. I should've told you that a while ago anyway, I guess. I'm gettin' better at tellin' you how I feel, when I feel it, but I know I still got a long way to go. But all being said, doll, none of that gives your dad the right to pull this shit or make you feel that way."

"You know the worst part was he kept saying he wasn't upset, that it was my choice to make, and that he was only mad because he thought I was lying to him and because we skipped school - but he wasn't acting that way. I think he _is_ mad at me, Jax. I really think he is, and that's so unfair it's not funny."

His arms wrapped around her again, enveloping her in his warmth and his protection, and his lips found her hair as he pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. " _Fuck_ him."

"He told me he thought you were a bad influence on me," she sighed, drawing her eyes down in shame and embarrassment. "I just don't understand why he would think that about you. He _knows_ you. You've been at our house millions of times and we've been friends for years. I just don't get it, Jax."

"My mom's pretty convinced it's because your dad thinks we're not good enough for you, that _I'm_ not good enough for you, and he doesn't want you to end up an old lady."

Dylan pushed out a heavy sigh and found herself leaning into him again. "The only person who gets to decide that is me. And maybe you too."

He huffed out a laugh as his hand moved in her hair, drawing her in and holding her tight. "Well, doll. I've got news for you then, 'cuz the second I patch in, you're gonna be an ol' lady."

"I know," she smiled up at him, letting her eyes flutter shut when his lips brushed hers. "That's what I want."

"That's what I want. And I want you to have my crow too," Jax's thumbs slipped another tear away from her cheek. "He can't keep you away from me. He _won't_. Just look how easy this was tonight - this is all we gotta do and he'll never know. He's always at the hospital anyway, so I don't know how the hell he thinks he can actually keep us apart, but I don't care. It's not gonna work, doll."

"I know," she nodded into his hands.

"Maybe it'll be harder for a little while, and maybe we won't be able to see each other like this as often as we want for as long as we want, but what's he gonna do? Lock you in the house? Cut you off from all your friends? I think, if we just give him some time to cool off, let him think we're doing what he wants, he'll come around and all of this will just blow over."

"I think you're right."

"'Course I am," Jax smirked. "He thinks he can keep you away from me? I'd like to see him try."

* * *

_One Month Later  
_ _Late January 2002_

The bell rang out, echoing down the hall, and students poured out of the classrooms from all sides of the hallway. Dylan hurried out of her journalism class, shoving her notebook into her backpack as she headed for the door, and her heart stuttered a little when she found him leaning up against a locker right by the door, waiting for her just like he always was.

Jax's lips curled into a smirk when he saw her, and he pushed off the locker so he could drape an arm around her shoulders. His lips were on the side of her head before they even started walking down the hallway.

"'Sup, doll," he murmured in her ear. "Missed ya."

"Oh, you had to go a whole 45 minutes without seeing me. Poor you."

"Yeah," he laughed. "Poor me is right. I had to sit through a whole lecture about photosynthesis or whatever and couldn't keep my fucking eyes open. But if _you'd_ been in that class, doll, you'd better believe I woulda been payin' attention to _something_ in that room."

Dylan just shook her head at him with a smile as he steered her down the hall, right past Analise and her cheerleader friends. Analise's head snapped around, her eyes narrowing and her lips pulling back into a subtle snarl.

"Hey, Jax," she called out.

But, he just ignored her, choosing instead to move his lips back to Dylan's hair.

"Did you hear somethin'?" he murmured to her. "'Cuz I sure as hell didn't."

Dylan just laughed, reveling in the feeling of his arm around her like this, right here in this hallway where everyone at school could see. She didn't need to look behind her to know that Analise and her little band of bullies were still there, still watching, and still just as awful as ever. Analise obviously had no shame either, considering she was _still_ trying to get Jax's attention even after he'd made it abundantly clear, over and over again, that he and Dylan were dating, that Dylan was his _girlfriend_ , and that he didn't want anything to do with her.

Maybe Dylan should've felt more victory in that. But she also had a feeling the only one of them who'd really felt they were actually competing for Jax was Analise. Up until a few months ago, Dylan had never thought she'd actually be with Jax this way, that he actually felt the same way she felt about him. She'd hoped, and she'd dreamed, and those hopes and those dreams had become a reality.

When they made it to Dylan's locker, they found Donna and Opie already there waiting for them. At the moment, Donna was _trying things out again_ with Opie, and had sidelined Cash once again, or so she said, but if anything, that just made Opie a little more cooperative and a little bit happier to help, since things seemed to be going right in his own love life for now too.

Jax tipped his chin to Opie in greeting, and shot Donna a sly glance when Opie slung an arm around her waist, but that was all fine and good. Things were going okay in their world right now, and they all wanted to keep it that way.

"Hey, Ope," Jax grinned at him. "Eight still work for tonight?"

Opie's eyes rolled up to the ceiling, but he just shrugged. "Yeah, works for me. Piney's gonna be at the clubhouse all night, so that shouldn't be a problem either."

That sly grin on Jax's face only widened, and he tucked some stray blonde hair behind his ear as he lifted his eyebrows at Dylan.

"You hear that? The coast is clear."

Dylan just huffed out a laugh because her face was a touch on fire - so much that she couldn't really muster out much of a response. Their friends were really the ones they needed to be thanking anyway - without Opie letting them use his room in his basement in secret, without Donna letting her use her as an excuse over and over again, without Cash's discretion and help in running interference between her and her dad, this whole thing would've been so much harder and way more painful.

But with their friends' help, it had been relatively easy and way simpler than she'd expected.

As it turned out, her dad _hadn't_ been able to keep them apart.

He hadn't had a shot in hell, not with Jax's determination, quick thinking, and ability to not just strategize, but anticipate her dad's moves too. He'd decided early on that they couldn't skip class anymore to steal some time together. That was too obvious and too easy for her dad to track - besides, he'd get notified immediately from the school, just like they'd already learned the hard way.

So, instead, they'd both become model students, always on time, keeping their grades up, never missing a test or an assignment - Dylan already hadn't had a problem with this, but Jax had definitely needed a little bit of help from her in that area.

They just hadn't wanted to give her dad any other reasons to think they needed to stay apart. If they were both doing well in school, even when they were still spending time together, that had to prove something to him, wouldn't it?

Dylan had also gotten a part-time job, just like her dad had wanted, and worked about 15 hours a week after school and on the weekends, toiling away at the local newspaper as a glorified errand girl - but that was fine. It was money in the bank, some real journalism experience under her belt, and it kept her dad proud and happy. Jax, of course, still worked at T-M, learning the ropes of mechanics from Tig and Bobby, and they'd gotten pretty good at coordinating their work schedules, too, so that they had off on the same nights.

All of this was by design, of course, because when her dad finally came around, and finally realized he was wrong, they could show him all the ways he'd been wrong too. They could show him that they _were_ good for each other, that they _were_ better together than they were apart, and that all of his worries and fears had been for nothing.

And when they wanted to see each other outside of school, it really wasn't that difficult either.

Sure, they had to make sure the coast was clear, as Jax had said, and they were really only able to make it work when her dad had a late shift at the hospital. Her dad had a late shift at the hospital at least three times a week, and those were the nights they took advantage of.

Those were the nights that were precious and sacred.

How was her dad really supposed to know what she was doing and what she wasn't when he was at the hospital anyway? He couldn't stop them from being around each other at school, and it wasn't like he had cameras in the house, or in her bedroom for that matter. They were never stupid enough to spend anytime at the house anyway, just in case he ever came home early from a shift. The handful of times her dad actually did come home early, all she'd needed to do was say she was at Donna's, or at work, or doing just about anything else as long as Jax wasn't involved, and Cash had always backed her up too.

That was a chance Jax wasn't willing to take, even if having to borrow Opie's bedroom for some privacy wasn't exactly ideal either. But it was the most convenient option, and even though they knew they could _probably_ spend time at Jax's house without much resistance from Gemma, neither of them really wanted to put her in that position. They figured, what Gemma didn't know, wouldn't hurt her.

So, later that night, when the coast was clear and after her dad left for his shift at the hospital, Dylan climbed out her bedroom window, pulled it down behind her, and padded across the lawn to head to Opie's walkout basement. By now, they had this routine down to a science, and Opie did too. All he really had to do was leave the door unlocked and make himself scarce anyway. Now that things were back on with Donna - for now - Opie didn't seem to mind just going over to Donna's house when he wanted to see her if it meant Jax and Dylan had somewhere to go where they could be together too.

It was easy enough, and the convenience of Opie's house made it easy for Dylan to get home as soon as she could, if it ever came to that.

And it had happened once - when her dad had tried to check up on her, and Cash had called her cell phone frantically to tell her she'd needed to come home _now,_ and she'd been able to get back into her bedroom with the window closed and locked before her dad had any idea what was really going on.

Now, Dylan moved through the basement easily, and didn't even need to turn on a light. At this point, she knew Opie's basement like the back of her hand. And, judging by the darkness coming from underneath Opie's door, she'd beat him here tonight too.

It was still _a little_ awkward, using Opie's room like this, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and this was really the only option they had.

She flipped the light on, grinning when she saw the immaculate condition of the room. Opie was a crazy neat-freak, and there was never a thing out of place in his room, especially his bed. He'd told them a while ago that he didn't necessarily mind if they were on his bed _as long as_ they didn't go under his covers. That was a bit of a bridge too far for all of them, so early on, Dylan had brought a few blankets and pillows from her house and stashed them in Opie's closet when they needed them.

She'd just finished throwing those pillows and one of those blankets on the bed when she heard the basement patio door slide open and shut with a soft click. Anticipation prickled down her arms and the back of her neck, and she nearly had to squeeze her legs together just to get a handle on herself. He'd be right here with her in a few seconds anyway - she'd already been waiting through the whole rest of this day, anxiously distracting herself with homework and telling her dad when he called to check in that she was dutifully doing as he asked and staying in the house.

Even if these last few seconds felt like years, they passed just the same.

Because a second later, her boyfriend appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame to take in the sight of her throwing a blanket out on the bed.

"'Sup, doll," Jax smirked at her from across the room. "Fancy meeting you here."

Dylan just huffed out a laugh with her hands on her hips. "Hello, Jackson."

The smirk curving up the side of his handsome face just deepened as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered over to her with purposeful movements. Like she was the prize standing in the middle of the room, and he'd just won big.

His arms snaked around her waist the second she was within reaching distance, and he tugged her against his chest, burying his face into her neck so he could breathe her in.

"I missed you," he whispered before dropping a kiss onto her neck.

"I missed you too. I wish we had more time tonight."

"I know," he sighed. Jax pulled away so he could smile down at her and rub his hands down her arms in the soothing motions she'd gotten so used to since they started dating.

He always knew exactly what she needed, when she needed it - almost like he just had a sixth sense when it came to her. And maybe he did, and that was just one more reason why she loved him, and why she knew she just couldn't live without him. This was getting harder and harder, and they'd only been at this for a month. But it was the only option they had.

Staying away from each other wasn't an option.

"So you think he's gonna be back at around ten?" Jax was murmuring in her ear now.

"Yeah," Dylan sighed heavily. "I think if I'm back in my room by nine, that would be plenty of time before he gets home, but that only gives us an hour though."

"I don't care," he smiled as his hands closed around her face. "If an hour is all I get tonight, then that's what I'm gonna take."

An hour, they both knew, wasn't enough.

It just wasn't.

But it was what they had, so that was how it had to be.

So, they didn't waste a second of that time. Their mouths crashed into each other, taking and giving, and her fingertips moved to slide underneath his black Samcro sweatshirt so she could yank it over his head.

* * *

_Two Months Later  
_ _March 2002_

Dylan shifted anxiously in the passenger seat as Jax pulled his truck into the darkest, most deserted corner of the park. They only had about an hour or so until Jax had to meet up with Opie and Cash to do something for the club, and she just couldn't wait anymore. For any of it, for any reason.

They _should've_ had at least three hours alone tonight, but all their plans had been shot to hell when Piney had unexpectedly come home from the clubhouse and parked on the couch with a case of beer for the rest of the night. So, they'd had to abruptly rearrange their plans and improvise at the last second. She'd given her dad a story about spending the night at Donna's, and then Donna had picked her up and promptly handed her off to Jax, who was waiting in his truck a safe distance away.

This park certainly wasn't ideal, but they hadn't had any other options.

Tomorrow was her seventeenth birthday, and she wasn't going to be able to spend it with him - her dad had seen to that. This was the only chance they'd get to celebrate together. And she wanted her present.

"Hey, Jax," she called out to him just as he cut the engine and leaned back in his seat.

"Yeah, doll?"

"You asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I think I know now."

His eyebrows lifted, propping an arm up on the steering wheel as he waited for her to tell him. And when her lips curled ever so slightly, his eyes widened, like he could read her mind. But he schooled his reaction, running a hand over his mouth to hide the way his own lips curved.

"Well, doll," Jax tossed out slyly. "I thought we were just comin' out here so we could talk. You know, spend some quality time together…out here, in a dark corner of a deserted park, in my truck."

"Uh huh," she laughed. "I guess I've got a one-track mind."

"Looks like it. So what do you want for your birthday then? You know all you gotta do is ask me, and it's yours."

Now that this moment was here, she wasn't as nervous as she thought she'd be. Even through that silence, Jax's eyes remained right where they were, settled right on _her_ , patiently waiting for her answer, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. It was like she was on fire, popping with white-hot sparks. If he were to reach over and touch her now, her entire body would combust on contact.

Something shifted in his eyes then. They grew sharper, darker…more intense. She'd never seen his eyes look quite like this before, and maybe that was also because she'd completely taken him by surprise tonight.

Her fingers reached up to graze his jaw, turning his chin just enough to give herself better access. Dylan pressed her lips against his, tasting them and flushing with heat as her body realized that everything she'd imagined in all her wild fantasies about this moment - those fantasies were about to come true.

Leaning even deeper into his shoulders, which were still square with the steering wheel, her lips parted. A beat later, she felt his tongue push its way through her parted lips, plunging through everything she was offering to him. His right hand fell off the steering wheel, skirting around her shoulders and down her side until it curled around the curve of her hip, balling up the material of her stretchy skirt into a tight fist.

Every touch seared through her skin. Every kiss set her body aflame and threatened to consume her.

Suddenly, the hand at her hip pressed in even deeper and now two rough palms skimmed over her stomach and around her hips to hoist her in the air so she could straddle his lap. His hands continued their practiced ministrations, gliding up her thighs as he shifted her into a more comfortable, less awkward position.

"So what do you want for your birthday?" Jax murmured against her lips.

She laughed a little, but now was also the time to ask for what she wanted. "You have condoms in your truck, don't you, Jax?"

His chest heaved ever so slightly as his eyes bored into her, studying her, memorizing her, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked, "I may or may not have a couple in the glove compartment. You sure 'bout this, doll? 'Cuz we can wait as long as you want. I don't care if -"

"I'm sure, Jax. I want this. I want _you."_

She knew the risks involved in what she was asking him for - she knew that better than anyone. But she was ready to try this again, to feel connected to him this way, and she wanted to feel that connection now.

His eyes glazed over as his fingers grazed the backs of her thighs to breach the hem of her skirt. She shivered under his touch, clinging to the back of his neck to keep herself upright. When his touch toyed with the edges of her boyshort panties, Dylan moaned into his mouth, unable to control herself any longer. She could feel it building, tightening around her until her toes curled around the edge of the seat, and her breath stuttered in her chest.

As his hands gently pressed into her hips to shift her backwards, the air in the truck thickened and heated from the pressure of his hands skimming underneath her skirt. When his thumb brushed inside her panties, a desperate sigh slipped from her throat.

He'd touched her here before, but this time was different.

Jax's thumb swirled around her in smooth, practiced circles just the way he knew she liked, just the way he knew would take her over the edge.

"Does that feel good, doll?"

"Yes," she exhaled, her eyes fluttering shut at the contact. " _Yes_."

"That's what I thought," he murmured and bit down on his bottom lip. Right now, all she wanted was to bite that lip too and suck on it and taste it and make him squirm underneath her touch to repay the favor.

So, she leaned forward until her teeth closed around his bottom lip, sucking until he moaned into her mouth. Her right hand drifted down to the front of his jeans, her fingers closing around the hardness she found there, stroking up and down as his lips took possession of her mouth once again, taking and tasting everything she offered.

But then everything came to an abrupt halt.

His calloused hands curled over her shoulders to gently push her back with enough pressure to ease their lips apart. She couldn't take it. It was too much…too much to handle, but too much to stop. Why had he stopped?

"You're gonna get what you want for your birthday," he hummed against her lips. "No doubt 'bout that tonight. But before I give you your present, I wanna try somethin' first."

Her head dipped back, and right about now, she thought she'd agree to just about anything he wanted. "Anything, Jax."

"I wanna taste you," he murmured. "I've never done that before. Will you let me try it?"

That jerked her mind out of temporary insanity and her eyes widened.

"What?"

"You heard me," he grinned. "I've always wondered 'bout it, but never wanted to try it before. I wanna try it with you, doll. Can I?"

"I..."

But that was hard to argue with, wasn't it?

Before they started dating, their experience levels were so unbalanced it wasn't funny. The first time Jax touched her _inside_ her underwear, not just over her clothes, she just about jumped off Opie's bed the sensations had been so intense, so _new_ , so goddamn _good_. But the first time she'd gotten the courage to slide her hand inside his boxers, it was hard not to think about all the other girls who'd done this before her, especially when he sighed with relief, like he'd been starved of it for too long.

But this was something he'd never done before. Something he only wanted to do with _her_. A new experience they could share _together_. And the knowledge that she'd be the only girl he'd ever done this with was enough to ebb away whatever nervousness and anxiety she might've felt about something so intimate.

Seeing her bite down on her bottom lip in anticipation, Jax smirked and gripped her hips to shift her until her back nestled against his truck's matted fabric.

It took her a moment to realize just how exposed she was to him now, how he was gently nudging her thighs apart to make way for him and she immediately clamped her thighs back together. This was too much…too much intimacy…too much exposure…she wasn't so sure she was ready for all of this all at once.

"Hey," Jax's soft voice called out to her and he rested his hands on top of her knees. "You trust me?"

The answer was obvious and absolute.

"Yes."

His lips curled into a wide grin and she'd never seen anything sexier. Hell, she could probably come just like this, with him settling between her thighs and giving her that sly, sensual smile.

So, her body reacted exactly the way it wanted to when he pushed up her skirt and slid her panties down her legs, tossing them over his shoulder. Jax situated himself in between her thighs and leaned in deeply, giving himself a moment to take her in as the inside of her thighs trembled around his face.

She'd never felt more exposed, more on display in her entire life and she knew that if he didn't do something about it soon, she might actually die from frustration.

When his tongue touched her, she nearly leapt off the seat. His hands pressed down over the tops of her thighs to help her stay in place as he dragged his tongue up and down.

"Oh my God," she sighed breathlessly. "Oh my _God_ , Jax."

"You taste just like I knew you would," he murmured against her skin, lifting his eyes up just enough to get a good view of her face. "So beautiful. So sweet."

"Don't stop. Oh my God, don't stop."

He obliged her then, as if he couldn't get enough of her, as if this was just as mind-blowing for him as it was for her, and he hoisted her hips up to give himself better access.

Dylan glanced down at him, momentarily stunned by the sight of his head in between her legs. This was just…God, it was _everything_ right now. She'd never get enough of it. She'd never want him to stop.

"You sure you've never done this before?"

Her skin muffled his laugh as his tongue circled and swirled, sucking and pulling until stars danced across her eyes, glazing over her vision so that the only thing she could see was his blonde head bobbing up and down in between her legs.

That thing that was building and twisting and turning and tightening in her suddenly snapped, sending her flying over the precipice. Then she seemed to burst into flames from her head all the way down to her toes as her body erupted and the only word her brain could grasp was his name, over and over again.

She'd hardly had a moment to come down from her high when his weight settled into her chest and his lips captured her mouth. The taste of him, mixed with the taste of her, was so heady she felt that invisible string begin to tighten again in her stomach.

"That was the hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen in my life," he whispered. "I wanna do that every night, okay?"

"Okay," she tried to laugh, but his lips caught it before it could leave her throat.

His hands pressed around her back, lifting her up so he could bring her tank top up and over her head, tossing it in the same direction as her panties.

There was no way she could let that go unanswered, so she tugged his Samcro sweatshirt over his head. The sight of him… _wow_. Just wow. It would never get old. _Never._

From his smooth skin to the chiseled stomach and his muscular, strong arms…her hands trailed up and down, taking careful inventory of every inch and every crevice, just like she did every time she got to see this. She tugged his belt loose, unzipping his fly and he helped her out the rest of the way, yanking his jeans down so he could kick them off.

As he dove around her to rifle through the glove compartment, she reached around to unclasp her bra, but when she started to pull off her skirt, his hand shot out to her wrist.

"No, doll," Jax whispered hoarsely. "Leave it on for me."

"Okay," she murmured, rolling her bottom lip underneath her teeth to get a grip on herself.

She watched in fascination, her head reeling as he rolled a condom over himself and her eyes practically bugged out of her head at the sight. This was really happening…they were really about to do this, and while she'd admit she was nervous if he asked, she'd never been more sure.

She wanted this. And she wanted this with him, right here, right now.

This was just so wildly different from the first time she'd done this, she almost couldn't wrap her head around it. The first time, she'd been so sure, but also so numb to it all. She'd just wanted to get it over with before, and now, _this time_ , she had a feeling she'd never want it to end.

As he settled on top of her once more, Dylan sucked in a sharp breath from the impact. Who knew the heat and weight of another body on top of hers could be so all-encompassing and arousing? But when he shifted uncomfortably on top of her, he was just too big for this position. Or rather, too _tall_. His legs were pushing into the driver's side door, curling back awkwardly, and there was just no way that could actually be comfortable for him.

"This isn't gonna work," he mumbled in her ear, echoing her thoughts. He pushed up onto his knees and pulled her up with him as he scooted back to the driver's side. "Let's try this. C'mon, doll."

Once again, she found herself straddling his lap, but this time, there was nothing between them but a thin layer of latex. His hand drifted down in between them, positioning himself directly in line with her and now, she knew she held all the cards and all the power here. This position would allow her to control the pace, the intensity - everything.

Jax nodded to her, signalling that it was time for her to bring her hips down and take care of business when she was ready. His hands lifted her hips, angling down at the perfect position, and then she lowered herself, gingerly sliding down. But then her entire body jumped into panic mode at the immediate, burning sensation - suddenly, she was back in that bedroom at that party the first time she'd attempted this, and her body hadn't forgotten how uncomfortable, how _painful_ that attempt had been.

She tensed over him, hovering just on the brink of sinking around him completely, but frozen with fear because of what had happened last time.

"You okay?" Jax murmured in her ear, his fingers reaching up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and then he gently pushed her back so he could get a good look at her face. "It hurts, doesn't it, doll?"

She nodded and couldn't hide her wince when she tried to move, but froze again on impact.

"Just go slow. Take your time," his voice was in her ear again, soothing her and helping her relax around him. "Nice and slow, okay?"

"Okay," she exhaled.

So, she tried again, tilting her hips down and sucking a harsh breath when it just burned again.

"Hey," Jax's hands closed around her face so he could look her in the eye. "I love you, and if you wanna stop, we can stop. We don't have to do this tonight."

That gave her pause because it was very possible her body just couldn't handle this, at least not right now. She'd _thought_ she was ready. Thought this was what she wanted tonight.

Maybe it wasn't too late to…her gaze lifted from where their bodies were joined and found him observing her with ocean blue eyes that were filled with as much fire as they were filled with love for her. Whatever doubt lingered, however miniscule, was completely eradicated now. This was where she wanted to be. This was who she wanted to be with.

And now her body knew what to do.

Her eyes widened as she slid all the way down, fully taking him in, and the burn of being filled to the brim was almost too much to bear. She almost couldn't take it. _Almost._

But then the sting subsided, giving way to the heat lingering inside the truck and all she could feel was the tremor vibrating through her entire body. And as his hands kneaded up and down, begging her hips to mimic his ministrations, her hips followed his lead.

This was everything she'd ever wanted all at once. All of him. All of her. Connected at the most raw, primal level and her head fell back, dizzy with all the swirling sensations and emotions churning through her entire body.

When she lifted her head, their eyes collided and her breath caught in her throat.

"Jax?"

"Yeah, doll?" he whispered hoarsely.

"You were right, you know - when you said it would be different with you. You were right."

 _This_ was how it should've been her first time. The care he'd already taken to make sure she was comfortable, to make sure she was okay, to make sure her body was ready for him - she hadn't needed to worry about chemistry and communication because that had just never been an issue for them. They had it. They had it _all_ \- and her body trembled underneath his touch at the anticipation of what was to come.

"So beautiful," he murmured as his lips curled into the most gorgeous smile she'd ever seen. "I knew you'd feel like this… I fucking _knew_ it. I love you, Dylan. I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too, Jax."

Bright, flashing headlights tore her attention away and her head shot up from Jax's shoulder, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. Was that...?

"Oh shit, Jax," she whispered in his ear. "There's a cop!"

That got his attention long enough for him to turn his head at the commotion and now there was no denying it. No explaining it away. A car door slammed and with glaringly bright headlights shining right into their eyes, there was only one thing this could mean.

And judging by the truck's fog-streaked windows, it wasn't like the cop didn't already know what they'd been up to.

"Shit," Jax exhaled and as Dylan lifted her hips, his hands clamped down to keep her body right where it sat.

Dylan laughed breathlessly, but when a flashlight shone right in her eyes, the party was officially over. She swatted his arm, yelping as she pushed herself off him and made a mad dash around the truck's cab for her clothes, grasping for anything she could find to cover herself up before the cop stepped up to the driver's side window.

Luckily, she managed to throw her T-shirt over her head and Jax jerked up his jeans just as Chief Unser tapped impatiently on the window. With an annoyed grunt, Jax obliged him and pressed the button to slide the window down.

"Hey there, Mr. Teller," Unser nodded, his dark eyes narrowing at Jax's bare chest, rumpled hair, and unbuckled jeans. "Just figured I'd give you and your lady friend here a friendly warning considering this park closes at nine, and it's…" he took a moment to glance at his watch, "Nearly eleven o'clock."

"Aw, sorry 'bout that, Chief. Looks like we lost track of time."

Unser didn't respond, probably because Jax's tone was anything but respectful, and he flicked his flashlight over to Dylan's side of the truck. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and Jax, sensing her discomfort without even needing to look at her, angled his body to keep her out of the chief's view.

"Look, Teller, you can't just sit here, screwing around with some girl at all hours of the night. I suggest you get a move on and get this girl home at a decent hour. Wouldn't want her to miss her curfew or anything like that, right?" Unser told them diplomatically in spite of the state he'd just found them in.

Jax's jaw ticked into a tight line, bristling at the words, _some girl_ , but he nodded dutifully and tapped two fingers up to his forehead in a spiteful salute. "Got it, Chief. I'll make sure my _girlfriend_ gets home at a decent hour, a'ight?"

Unser just shook his head and finally lowered his flashlight. "Fine. Just get going."

With that, the chief turned on his heel and stalked back to his squad car. As soon as Jax realized that the squad car wasn't going to leave until the truck did, he reached over her lap to grab his long-forgotten sweatshirt, pulled it over his head, and turned the ignition in his truck.

"Fucking cockblock. Always stickin' his nose where it doesn't belong. I can't _fucking_ believe this," he muttered under his breath as he backed out of their dark little corner and headed for the side road that would lead them out of the park.

"Now what do we do, Jax?"

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and his shoulders sagged.

"Aw, shit. I gotta…I gotta get to the clubhouse and meet up with Ope and Cash. I'm so sorry, Dylan -"

"You sure I can't come with y'all this time? I'll just stay in the truck or something. I won't get in the way."

His lips curved wistfully, and he lifted a hand off the steering wheel so he could tuck some stray dark hair behind her ear. "Doll, we've been over this already. I can't risk it with you, okay? If something goes wrong - even though I know it won't - and you're there with me…I'm not gonna let you put yourself in that position and get in trouble."

"But it's fine for you and Ope and Cash to do it though, right?"

"Well, yeah," he just shrugged as he took a left turn out of the park and onto one of Charming's main roads. "It's for the club. And if I get caught, which I _won't_ , it's not a big deal. For you, though, Dylan, it would be a big deal. I don't care if I have a record - shit, it's like a badge of honor in the club anyway. You've seen all those mugshots up in the clubhouse, right? It's different for us, and it's different for the club because that's what we do. But that's not what _you_ do - and I don't want you to do anything that's gonna mess up school or basketball for you."

Dylan blew out a heavy breath and shot him an annoyed glance from over her shoulder as she straightened her clothes and shoved her bra in her purse. "I guess you're right. That's pretty sweet, you know, even if it pisses me off."

His lips curled in amusement, and he reached out to tangle their hands together. "I can live with that if it keeps you outta handcuffs and your dad off my ass."

"Oh boy. Why don't you just take me to Donna's before you _actually_ get yourself in trouble."

They were mostly silent the rest of the ride to Donna's house, with Dylan tucked under Jax's shoulder with her face buried in his sweatshirt and his lips in her hair. This was the part she hated the most - the part where she knew they only had a few minutes left.

It was a little bit worse this time because tomorrow was her birthday, and since her dad made sure he didn't have a late shift at the hospital so he could spend the day with his kids, that also meant she wouldn't be spending it with Jax. She'd have to do the happy family thing instead. They'd probably go out to dinner, maybe rent a movie or something like that, but it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to spend at least part of the day with her boyfriend, too, but tomorrow was a Saturday, and they wouldn't even be able to see each other at school.

When Jax pulled into Donna's driveway and shifted the truck into park, he sighed heavily and scrubbed his free hand over his face. This wasn't any easier for him, it seemed, and he tucked her in even closer so he could press his face into the side of her neck.

"I don't wanna leave, Jax."

"I know, doll. I know. Hey, you know what? After we're done at the clubhouse for the night, I bet me and Ope could swing by and pick you girls up. I don't know…we could just go for a drive or somethin'? And hey, then at least we could say I got to see you on your birthday. How's that sound?"

Her lips lifted at the corners. "I think that sounds pretty good."

Now, he leaned in to brush his mouth into her lips, smiling through the kiss, and then sliding his tongue in between her parted lips at his first opportunity.

"Hey, you wanna know something?" Dylan whispered.

"What's that, doll?"

She bit down on her bottom lip as she moved closer to murmur in his ear, "We were having _sex_ tonight."

Jax's mouth curled in amusement, even as his eyes darkened with the anticipation, not to mention frustration, of what had happened between them only ten minutes ago.

"Yes, we were. And you wanna know somethin' else?"

He didn't give her a chance to respond, and the feeling of his breath on her ear sent shivers down her arms. "That was just a taste, doll. Next time I get you alone, we're gonna finish what we started. I gotta make sure you get your present even if it's a couple days late, right?"

His words just sent another heady shiver through her, and that shiver followed her all the way out of Jax's truck and into Donna's house.

* * *

_Three Hours Later_

"Holy shit! I can't fucking believe it," Jax turned around in the passenger seat, eyes on the road behind them. "Wooo!"

Opie was laughing in the backseat of the van, and then he just started shaking his head. "I thought we were goners for sure. How the hell did you manage to sneak out of there?"

"I have no fucking idea," Jax shook his head, even as a laugh erupted from his throat.

By all rights, he _should've_ gotten caught red-handed. This was just a run-of-the-mill job, nothing that should've put them in this kind of tough spot, where they had to speed away in the getaway van like the hounds of hell were chasing them. But best laid plans were just that, and they'd learned that lesson the hard way tonight.

"Shit, dude, I thought we were fucked for sure," Cash called out from the driver's seat. "Fuckin' Tig is gonna eat his words!"

Jax just tipped his chin to him from the passenger seat. "No shit."

Tig had been under the impression that they'd need at least a half hour to get in, recover what they needed, and get the hell out of there. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Jax and Opie had been in and out in less than ten minutes while Cash stayed behind on lookout, but not before tripping the security system Tig had _definitely_ failed to mention.

Whether Tig knew about the security system remained to be seen. All Jax knew was that he'd scraped by tonight by the skin of his teeth and that was a high he thought he might never come down from.

That _almost_ made up for the epic disappointment he'd suffered through just a few hours ago. _Almost_.

Just when he'd finally been deep inside everything he'd ever wanted, it'd ended just as quickly as it began.

"How much you think all this shit is worth?" Cash was saying now as he glanced behind him, taking in the merchandise they'd just recovered for Tig.

All in all, they'd scooped up four souped-up stereo systems, two flat screen TVs, a few boxes of blu-ray players, and a box full of iPods and some bluetooth shit that Jax didn't really understand - but at the end of this job, they'd done what Tig told them to do. They'd gotten into a supplier's warehouse, tracked-down the merchandise he'd asked for, and they'd gotten it into the van.

They'd done these kinds of odd jobs for the club before - and really, they were willing to do just about anything and everything if it would score them points with the club. This was the first time, though, where Jax really thought they just might not make it out in time. Especially after he breezed right past one of the security sensors on his way out of the warehouse without realizing what he'd done until sirens blared through the whole place.

But they'd made it out just in time.

And he'd learned a few valuable, potentially life-saving lessons tonight: always be aware of your surroundings, and never, _ever_ close the book on a job until everyone's in the getaway van and that getaway van is fucking down the street.

"I don't know, brothers, but shit…" Opie grinned from the backseat. "That was wild. I wanna do it again, ya know?"

"Nah, I think we're good for now," Jax laughed. "We're still gonna grab the girls later, right?"

And then he realized what he'd just said, with Cash sitting right across from him, and the current sort-of, maybe boyfriend of the girl Cash had been after since their freshman year sitting right behind them. He shot Cash a quick glance, but if Cash was bothered by it, he didn't show it.

In fact, Cash turned his head now so he could lift his eyebrows at Jax with a grimace. "I don't wanna know what you're doin' with my sister, okay? I'm glad it's workin' out for you guys and everything after that shit my dad pulled, but I don't need the details. Like, _any_ of the details. _Ever._ "

Jax's shoulders shook with laughter as he shot both hands up in the air in defense. "Sorry, bro. I know, I know."

"Well," Opie shot back from the backseat. "I think the answer's kinda in the question, ya know? I mean, why else would your sister have Donna pick her up tonight, and then drop her off at Jax's truck down the street if not so he could take her out for a nice, quiet, respectful dinner? Or maybe a nice romantic stroll in, say, a deserted park or something?"

Cash blew out a rough breath. "Aw shit, bro. I didn't need to know any of that."

"Hey, ya know what, Cash Money?" Jax cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll have you know that what happened between your sister and me a couple hours ago was a hundred percent respectful and a _thousand_ percent consensual."

Opie barked out a laugh behind them, but all Cash could do was shake his head from side to side, a deep grimace ticking across his face.

"That's just…" Cash trailed off, still shaking his head. "Too much information, okay? _Too much information_!"

"Hey," Opie snorted. "We don't need to talk about the time I found a very suspicious stain on my comforter. I might've been willing to accept that one was my own fault, but that was literally an hour after your sister and Jax left my room, so I feel like there could've only been one, or maybe _two_ culprits, right?"

"Alright, that's it," Cash jerked around in the driver's seat, throwing his hand back to punch Opie in the shoulder.

"Hey, watch it, asshole!" Opie laughed, then he ducked just in time when Cash gave it another try.

Jax was laughing right along with them, right up until he realized what was happening outside their truck.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!" his hands slammed on the dash. "Cash! Slow the _fuck_ down!"

But it was too late because their van was already speeding right through a red light. He heard it before he felt it - the sick crunch of the car slamming into the side of their van, the screaming and the ringing in his ears. And _then_ he felt it - his body slamming to the left, only stopped by his seatbelt and the center console, his head whipping back and colliding with his seat.

That ringing in his ears just intensified now as the van jerked to a stop, right in the middle of the intersection.

He looked to his left, nodding to himself when he saw that Cash was still conscious in the driver's seat, squeezing his eyes shut and touching the blood on his forehead. Then Jax shifted in his seat, wincing at the stiffness in his entire body, and nodded again when he saw that Opie was in the same state as them - banged up and stunned, but still alive.

And then, just when Jax was beginning to think everything was going to be okay - they were alive, after all - sirens screamed through the void, and then, a second later, someone pounded on the side of the van.

He glanced to his right, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

Cops.

 _Lots_ of fucking cops. And an ambulance or two.

Which only meant one thing: they were all screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - There are two flashback chapters left, and as I'm sure you've already guessed, it's really about to hit the fan now. I've been getting lots of questions about what happened between Jax and Dylan to make her leave, and as we'll see in the next chapter, it's not Jax that makes her leave (and after this chapter, that's probably not a surprise at this point, right?).
> 
> There was a lot going on in this chapter, and their interrupted moment in Jax's truck is a pretty good metaphor for their relationship at this point in the story - interrupted and unfinished. I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter as well as your predictions for what's coming next!
> 
> In case you missed it, I'm working on another new story that will eventually take Fly By Night's Wednesday slot in my posting schedule. I'm about halfway through the second chapter, but I'd like to get a few more finished before I'm ready to post, but if you're curious, here's a little bit about my new upcoming story - 12 Rounds.
> 
> Blurb: Fresh out of prison and with nothing left to lose, Jax joins the underground fight scene in Reno to make some fast cash while the club is there helping the IRA smooth over a deal with the Russian bratva. As he spends more time in Reno, and debates his future with the club, he gravitates to a pretty casino lounge performer, who's more entangled with the bratva than he knows.
> 
> I really enjoyed the Reno setting in Witness Protection (and the boxing league they had going that I never really got a chance to do much more with), so I decided to take those things and run with them! It's been a lot of fun creating another setting in this world that's pretty far removed from the club, and I'm so excited to start sharing it with you in a couple of weeks. I'll keep you posted, but until then, I hope you enjoyed this latest update!


	7. Chapter Seven

_The Next Morning, March 2002  
_ _Seventeen Years Old_

_Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone  
_ _I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run  
_ _-Taylor Swift_

"That's it, Cash!" her dad's voice boomed from outside the front door. "That's it! I can't believe you put yourself in that position! After everything we've talked about, after everything _you_ agreed to - you still went behind my back and did it anyway, didn't you?"

Geez.

Dylan hadn't gotten her key in the door yet, and already this whole thing looked like it was going to be an epic disaster. And she didn't even know what was going on. She glanced over her shoulder but found Donna already speeding down the street in her little beat-up Camry - definitely too late to run out and catch her for another rescue pick-up. But, she figured, Donna had technically already done that for her last night, when Dylan had frantically called her after Piney showed up unexpectedly at Opie's house and completely thwarted her plans with Jax. Twice in less than 10 hours might be asking too much from a friend who'd already given her so much.

So, all she could do was push through the front door and hope beyond hope that she'd be able to make it to her room without getting caught in the crossfire.

"Screw you, Dad!" Cash was yelling now.

Carter just threw up his hands, barely even cognizant that Dylan had stepped into the living room with her overnight bag and was trying to tiptoe around them.

"That's real mature, Cash. Way to prove to me that you're capable of making good decisions and rational arguments. Thanks for that."

"I don't give a shit, Dad. I'm done with you tryin' to tell me what to do. I'm seventeen years old now. I'm gonna be a senior next year, and after that, there's nothing you can do about it!"

Now, Carter's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Nothing I can do about it? What about what _you_ did, Cash?"

That last part stalled her movements, and she clenched her hand around the strap on her bag. _Something_ had happened last night - Dylan and Donna had been able to figure out that much when Jax and Opie never came by Donna's house to pick them up. Granted, they had also passed out in Donna's room about two hours after Jax dropped Dylan off to meet up with Opie and Cash, and it wasn't really until they woke up the next morning that they realized they'd never heard from their boyfriends.

But _something_ had obviously come up, otherwise Jax and Opie would've at least swung by Donna's house at some point that night, even if it was just to check in.

Jax and Opie weren't the kind of boyfriends who'd just blow them off like that.

 _Something_ happened, and now world war three had broken out in the middle of her living room.

"You think I'm not mad at myself about that, Dad? You think I'm not sittin' here, beating myself up about it?"

"Well," their dad just huffed. "If you weren't, then I'd be even more concerned than I already am. You could've _killed_ someone, Cash. You could've killed your friends. You could've killed yourself. You could've -"

"Wait, what?" Dylan cut in. "What happened last night?"

Carter's head dipped low as he scrubbed both hands over his face. When he sliced his eyes back up to her, she didn't like what she saw. God, he just looked so exhausted. So disappointed. So _old._

"Your brother was in a car accident last night with his buddies."

Just as her heart leapt into her stomach, her eyes widened when she finally took a good look at her twin and realized he had a nice bandage on the side of his forehead. And then, the words spilled out of her before she could stop them.

"Is everyone okay? Is J -"

Even though she managed to stop herself short _there_ , it seemed like the damage had already been done because her dad's attention was now focused squarely on her, instead of Cash, and his eyes narrowed.

"Don't worry, Dylan," Carter told her, but his eyes were still narrowed and his voice was still tight. "Everyone's fine. They're all banged up, but they're fine. The _real_ problem is what you idiots had in that van, isn't it? All those TVs, and those stereo systems, and those iPods - what were you gonna do with them? Sell them? Or did someone in the _club_ put you up to it?"

Dylan felt herself suck in a shaky breath as the true nature of Jax's club business last night came to light. He'd always been vague on the details whenever he met up with Cash and Opie to _do something for the club_ , but she'd always known that also meant they were up to no good.

_It's only illegal if we get caught, doll._

Looked like they'd finally gotten caught.

And it also looked like her brother was in big, big trouble.

"I don't have to tell you that," Cash threw back hotly.

"Oh, yes you do. If someone in that club told you to steal all those electronics last night, I wanna know who it was."

"Like I'd _ever_ tell you that."

Their dad nodded, probably more to himself than anything, and took a purposeful step closer to her brother.

"I bet you think you're really smart, don't you, Cash? So tough and so cool too. Well, I've got news for you, young man. You were arrested last night. You're lucky you didn't _kill_ someone. You're looking at possession of stolen property charges, not to mention the reckless driving fine you're gonna have to figure out how to pay. Your affiliation with that club, and those boys, is _over."_

"Aw, fuck you, Dad. You can't tell me what to do."

That didn't deter him though. In fact, that only made him move closer, like a snake in the grass, his eyes dark and dangerous, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Dylan couldn't have moved from that spot in their living room if she tried.

"I've been trying here," Carter's voice was deathly calm. "Trying to trust you. Trying to accept that maybe there are some things I just can't change. Trying to accept that maybe there are some things about _you_ I just can't change - but you're making it real hard for me, Cash. If you want any kind of freedom ever again, you need to start making some changes in your life and you need to start making those changes _now_."

Cash's lips curled back into a defiant sneer. "I don't have to do _shit._ "

At least that got their dad's attention, and he reared back, almost as if Cash had reached out and slapped him.

"Where is this attitude coming from? What _happened_ to you, son? You used to be such a kind, sweet boy and now you're turning into such a little punk. You're turning into such a little _criminal_ I can't even wrap my head around it. If your mother was here right now -"

"Oh yeah?" Cash tossed back. "Well, Mom's dead. She's dead, Dad. Maybe it's time you finally accepted _that_ too."

He nodded now, glancing up at Dylan only once, and she shrunk back, backpedalling towards the front door with careful, cautious steps.

"You're right, Cash. You're so much smarter than me anyway, aren't you? Ever since you got it into your head that you wanted to be part of that _club,_ you just haven't been the same person. You're meaner. You're ruder. You're skipping school. You're getting into fights. You're getting arrested for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. You're crashing a van into oncoming traffic with thousands of dollars of stolen property in the backseat."

"Well," Cash rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into his front pockets. "With a father like you, can you hardly blame me?"

Pain flashed across Carter's face, and he shook his head. "That's a terrible thing to say."

"Yeah? Well, it's true. I don't know why you're even bothering to pretend you're actually a dad to us. You're never around. You just tell us what to do and what not to and then you just leave and go to the hospital for fucking 24 hours straight. Nice fucking parenting, _Dad._ "

He winced at that, but he still nodded in agreement. "Alright. I'll give you that one, Cash, because I deserve it. I haven't been around the way I should've been, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you and that I don't want what's best for you. You're just throwing your life away, and you've got no idea what you're doing here. No idea whatsoever."

"With no thanks to you, right?"

Carter just huffed in frustration, his features pulling tighter and tighter. "None of this means you had any right to lie to my face. I _specifically_ told you to stay away from those boys. I _specifically_ told you that continuing to associate yourself with them would only ruin your life, and you agreed with me. You _agreed_ to keep your distance from them. At least your sister -"

"Jesus, Dad - are you really sure _I'm_ the idiot here? You have no idea what you're talking about. No fucking idea. You really think we've been sitting here these last couple of months, doing exactly what you told us to do just because you told us to? You really thought you could control us like that? Tell us what to do? You're such a _fucking_ idiot I can't even stand it."

Dylan sucked in another sharp breath just as their dad took another menacing step forward - all the air seemed to zip right out of the room in that moment. And in that moment, Cash finally seemed to realize what he'd just done as his mouth opened and closed helplessly.

"What exactly are you saying here?" Carter growled.

Cash swallowed hard as he held up both hands in defense. "I'm not saying anything. I was just making the point that you can't tell us -"

"And why is that?" their dad shifted on his heel then to meet Dylan right in the eye. "Because _both_ of you have been deliberately lying to me every single day?"

When neither of the twins responded, their dad just scrubbed both hands over his face and exhaled heavily.

"Where were you last night, Dylan? Or should I even bother asking because all I'm gonna get from you is a lie?"

Dylan's lips parted in disbelief, but that was the most movement she could manage. Every other part of her was frozen.

"Dad, she wasn't with Jax last night, okay? How could she have been? She wasn't in that van and neither was Donna."

From across the room, Cash's desperate dark eyes met hers and she could practically hear his thoughts in her head: _I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I'll make this better for you._

"Maybe that's true," Carter allowed slowly. "But Donna did pick you up awfully late last night for a sleepover. You've been doing that a lot, haven't you? Running over by Donna all of a sudden. Or picking up an extra couple of hours at the newspaper out of the blue. Staying late at school to finish your homework when you could certainly do that here. How long have you been seeing him behind my back, Dylan? This whole goddamn time or did you at least _try_ to be respectful and listen to me for a while?"

Dylan inhaled shakily as her hands trembled around the strap over her shoulder. "Dad, I -"

"You know what?" their dad laughed mirthlessly. "I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna hear anymore excuses and I don't wanna hear anymore lies out of either of you. And you wanna know what else, Dylan? You gave yourself away the second you found out about that car accident."

Neither of the twins could speak - they'd been stunned into silence.

So, their dad just kept on talking.

"You know," he sighed. "I wanted to give you both a chance here. I wanted to trust you to do the right thing and listen because you promised me you would. You both told me you'd do as I asked and I wanted to believe you. I wanted to believe you wouldn't blatantly lie to my face. I suppose that was my mistake, wasn't it? I've made a lot of mistakes with you kids, and I'm sorry about that. I've tried to be around more, tried to point you in the right direction and help you make good decisions, but I've let you both get too rooted to this town and too tied to the people in it, and now I've completely lost control of you, haven't I?"

He paused there, but only to shove his hands in his pockets and nod to himself, as if he'd made up his mind.

"I was going to wait to talk to you two about this because I didn't want to wreck your birthday, but I think we can all agree that's shot to hell now," Carter sighed again, drawing his eyes to the carpet. "I've been offered a job as the ER director at Mass General in Boston."

And that was the moment the bottom dropped out.

"It's probably the opportunity of a lifetime, as far as jobs go, but that's not the point here," their dad went on heavily. "And I want you both to know that I really was on the fence about it - I wasn't sure if I really wanted to uproot you like that, if that was really the right thing and now…now I feel like this is exactly what our family needs to get on the right track again."

"Dad," Dylan whispered. "Dad, no."

He held out a hand to her with a tight nod. "I know how you feel right now, sweetheart. I really do. I'm sure it feels like your world is ending, but I promise you, it's not. Today is your seventeenth birthday, and that means I've got one more full year to right this ship and at least _try_ to save you both from this path you're on now. Maybe it's too late, maybe it's not - but at least I can say I _tried_. I think a change of scenery, a change in _people_ …that's what we all need right now. A fresh start. A clean slate. That's all this is."

"Dad," Cash's hoarse voice called out through the void. "This is horseshit."

"Maybe," their dad nodded sadly. "But I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you from destroying your life with that club," and then he shifted his gaze to Dylan, "and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep _you_ from destroying your life with that boy. I know you don't see it right now. And you don't see the power those people have over you, but you will. As soon as we're away from them, and as soon as we're surrounded by some goddamn normalcy again, you'll understand what I'm saying."

But Dylan just shook her head furiously as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Dad, this is the worst thing you ever could've done. The _worst_. You think you're trying to keep us from destroying our lives? Well, you're _ruining_ them right now. You're _ruining_ my life!"

Carter's face twisted with pain and regret and some fresh heartache, but that wasn't enough to stop this. That wasn't enough to keep this train on the tracks. They were going. She could feel it. Nothing would be able to stop him or change his mind.

"When is this happening?" Cash bit out, his face turning into an expressionless mask.

Their dad sighed again and ran a hand over his face. "I think the sooner we get to Boston and start our new lives there, the better. They've got employee housing there that we can use until we find something more permanent. I'm going to call first thing on Monday to accept the job, and get us flights out there the next weekend."

Now, all the breath flew out of Dylan's lungs. " _Next_ weekend? No, Dad…you can't do this. You _can't._ "

"I'm sorry, baby," Carter told her with a shaky voice. "I know this is gonna hurt for awhile, but this is the right thing for all of us. It really is."

"I hate you," she whispered. "I _hate_ you."

With that, she turned on her heel, pushed through the front door, sprinted through their driveway as fast as her short legs could take her, and jumped in her car, speeding over to the Tellers' house as fast as she could. She hopped up the steps to their front porch, furiously brushing away her tears and her rage, and pounded on the door.

She just couldn't focus on one thing long enough to make sense of anything that had just happened in that house. It was just all insane. Her dad had gone _insane_. That was it.

Gemma swung the door open, her dark eyes flashing with concern immediately when she got a good look at Dylan.

"Hey, honey," she smiled, cautiously waving at Dylan through the doorway. "I'm sure you heard about everything that went down last night, huh?"

That was enough to snap her out of it for a second - at least long enough to put on a brave face for Gemma.

"Yeah, I did," Dylan smiled back weakly. "Is Jax here? I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

"Oh, you know, honey, he's still at the clubhouse going over everything that happened with Clay and the rest of the guys."

Her heart sank, and she felt her shoulders sag in response.

"Okay. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I'm not sure. But I'll have him call you as soon as he gets back, okay?"

Dylan nodded silently, backpedaling down the steps and through the Tellers' driveway again. Now that she was really seeing everything with a clearer head, she finally noticed that Jax's truck wasn't in the driveway. Of course he wasn't here. Of course he was still at the clubhouse with Clay. Of course Cash had gotten sent home to deal with their dad. So her next move was a mindless one, as she drove through the streets of their town, seeing everything now with new eyes because it felt like she might be seeing it all for the last time.

Had these streets always felt this wide? This full of the life and the memories she had here but always taken for granted? What was she going to do now?

She didn't know the answer to any of those questions when she pulled into T-M's parking lot or when she got out of her car and jogged across the lot to get to the clubhouse's double doors. She'd really only been inside the clubhouse a handful of times over the years, and only during the week, and only briefly. This would be the first time she'd been here on a weekend, even if it was still pretty early in the morning, not to mention the first time she'd ever really been here by _herself._ At least right away.

But if Jax was in there, then that was where she was going to be too.

She _did_ need to see for herself that he was really okay. But she also just needed to see him. And she also just needed to talk to him and it couldn't wait. Even if showing up here, unannounced and basically uninvited, got her in some trouble right now, she was willing to risk it if it meant she didn't have to wait.

So with a deep breath for a little bit of courage, she pushed through those double doors and ventured inside. The scent of stale cigarette smoke assaulted her senses almost on impact, and she winced as that smell seeped in through everything - there was a cloud of smoke just hanging in the air, clinging to everything and everyone, and she could feel it clogging her throat now too. Dylan coughed only once, quickly covering her mouth with her arm to keep her reaction hidden.

She pushed through the hazy air as the bar off to the right came into clearer view. And the other things coming into view…that was something else entirely. It was like there were bodies everywhere - any place a person could lay, that's where one was. Across a table. On the floor. Draped over a pool table. Underneath a booth. On top of a booth. And that wasn't even the worst part. More than half of these people, most of who she didn't recognize, at least not really, were barely wearing any clothes. There was one woman who was still passed out on top of a pool table with her fire engine red hair strewn all over the table like a mermaid, black streaks of makeup smudged underneath her eyes, and wearing only a pair of heels and a thong. There was another woman lying on top of a man over in the corner and she definitely wasn't wearing a shirt, or a bra.

"Hey there, little lady."

The voice that called out to her was vaguely familiar, and she turned her head to see a more familiar short man with wiry hair seated at the bar with a cigarette in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. He shot her a wide smile as he waved her over.

"You're Jax's girl, aren't ya?"

Dylan tried to smile - how much longer was she going to be his girl? But she pushed that down and focused on what she could control, even if it was just this conversation right now.

"Yeah," she nodded, taking a few cautious steps closer to him and stepping over a guy in a leather cut snoring on the floor. "You're…Bobby, right?"

He lifted his beer bottle and tipped his chin to her in greeting. "That's right, little lady. You lookin' for your boy?"

"Yeah," she tried to smile at him, but that was a little hard, given the half-naked woman draped on the other side of him.

"He's in Tig's room right now," Bobby told her as he wrapped his lips around his cigarette. "He talks about you all the time, ya know. So much that I'm about ready to strangle the kid if he starts in again 'bout how he's got the girl of his dreams and all that lovey-dovey shit," he flashed her a good-natured grin. "He had a pretty rough night if you're lookin' to check in on him. I think he passed out in there about an hour ago or so. Down that hall, third door on the right."

"Okay," Dylan exhaled, anxious to get off the clubhouse's main floor, with all these people, and just get to her boyfriend. "Thanks."

"No problem," Bobby waved her off. "You take good care of him this morning, sweetheart."

Dylan just frowned at him as she stepped around a few more people, narrowly sidestepping around a table in the middle of the floor when the man passed out on top of it turned around and nearly hit her in the face. Bobby's low chuckle followed her all the way down the hall, which thankfully, was pretty quiet and dark. She knocked lightly on that third door on the right and then put her ear to the door to listen, smiling a little when she heard his muffled voice.

"Go the fuck away! I just finally got to sleep!"

She bit down on her bottom lip and knocked again.

"I'm serious, Bobby. Go away!"

So, she tried the doorknob, finding it unlocked, and gingerly pushed the door open. Dylan had definitely never been in any of the clubhouse's dorm rooms before, and if she had to choose… Tig's would definitely be the last one she'd want to step foot in. But this was where Jax was, so this was where she was going to be too, for as long as she could.

Dylan stuck her head through the door, and chose to just focus on the bed, and who was lying on the bed, than anything else in the room. Still, looking past the collection of beer bottles on just about every surface, the full ashtrays that seemed to be everywhere, the clothes - male and female - that seemed to be strewn just about everywhere too - that was easy compared to the _smell._

_Boy funk._

That was what it was - body odor, cigarettes, stale beer, and stinky feet.

So far, she wasn't so sure she liked being at the clubhouse on the weekend, even if it was pretty early in the morning.

But then her eyes dropped to the bed again, and her lips curled into a soft smile, even if it still felt like her heart was breaking in two at the sight. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she moved through the room. His long body was flung across the bed, still wearing the same clothes as the last time she'd seen him…and her body heated just at the thought of the last time she'd seen him, and what they'd been doing, where his hands and mouth had been, how their bodies had been connected and joined.

Only to be interrupted.

It felt like her whole life had just been interrupted now too.

He still hadn't turned his head, still didn't know she was there, so she ventured even deeper inside the dorm until she gingerly climbed on top of the bed, letting her hands slide around his shoulders. Jax jumped at her touch, practically leaping off the bed in surprise, but when he whipped his head around from the pillow, ocean blue eyes flashed back at her.

"Doll?" he murmured as he reached up to brush his hand across her cheek. "What are you doin' here?"

"I heard about what happened last night," she smiled down at him. "Gemma told me you were here, so I'm here too."

His lips spread apart in a gorgeous, albeit sleepy, smile, and he pulled her down to the bed so he could wrap his arms around her, tugging her closer. Then his mouth was on hers, greeting her properly, and she laughed against his lips when he rolled on top of her.

"I don't know, doll," Jax whispered. "I think this might be the best wake-up call I've ever gotten in my life. I'd say I'd like to finish what we started last night right _now_ , but I'd rather not get you naked in Tig's bed. I don't know what he's been doin' on this comforter, if you know what I mean, and I don't want you anywhere near that shit."

"Ew," she laughed again. "That's so gross, Jax. Now I feel like we should get _off_ this bed."

"I think you might be right," he grinned down at her, but he ground his hips against her anyway - and then winced at the movement. "And, I'm not gonna lie, doll, my whole body is sore as shit right now. I don't know that I could do what I want to do without killing myself, to be honest."

"Well, we can't have that," Dylan smiled softly. "Are you okay?"

He pushed out a rough sigh, rolling off her but making sure to keep an arm around her, and then he scrubbed his free hand across his face. "It was scary as shit, I've got a nasty bruise on my chest from my seat belt, but I'm alive, I guess. Getting arrested sure as hell wasn't fun either, but it is what it is."

"What's gonna happen now?"

Jax just shrugged like this really wasn't a big deal. He had _no idea_.

"Clay's gonna have the club's lawyer go to bat for us, get the charges dropped down - he thinks we'll probably just get a slap on the wrist since this is the first time. Probably have a fine, some community service, but that's it since they can't prove where we got all that cargo from - at least not yet."

While that was good for Jax and Opie, it wouldn't help Cash. It wouldn't help her. And the worst part was that she'd had no control over any of it. All of this had just been ripped away from her without even getting a shot at stopping it or making it right or getting the chance to explain.

Her shoulders sagged with defeat, and she found herself burying her face in Jax's chest as another round of tears stung and pricked her eyes. As if he could sense the shift in the air, Jax moved his hands to her face to tilt her chin back up to him.

"Hey," he frowned. "I know this was scary, but I'm fine. Everyone's fine. Everything's gonna be okay."

A stray tear slipped down her cheek, but he caught it with his thumb.

"What's wrong, doll?"

Dylan sucked in a shaky breath, feeling out of control and out of her body. How could she look him in the eye and tell him this? How could they really sit here and pretend like everything was going to be okay, when it wasn't. It just wasn't. It felt like the walls were closing in on her, suffocating her, strangling the last breath from her throat…and everything just burned. Everything just _hurt_.

"It's not gonna be okay," she murmured through her tears. "He knows, Jax. He _knows_."

Jax jerked up into a sitting position, and she mirrored his movements, wincing at the way his blue eyes flashed with panic.

"What do you mean? How could he know? We've been so goddamn careful this whole time."

"I know," she cried and her head fell into her hands. "Cash told him this morning after I got home from -"

Jax's entire body coiled.

"He _what_?"

"He didn't mean to, Jax. He was fighting with my dad about all this when I got home from Donna's and I think it just came out. He didn't mean to do it. I think it just sort of…happened."

That didn't seem to lessen the way Jax sat frozen on the bed, his lips pulling back in a snarl with barely bridled rage flowing off his shoulders in waves.

"It doesn't matter how he knows," Dylan whispered, desperate to move past this part so they could focus on what she had to say next. "But he does. And, Jax - I think he's lost his mind or something."

Jax snapped to attention, his forehead creasing with new worry for her as his eyes dropped to her body, looking her over for injury. "What do you mean? Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Dylan sucked in another breath for strength and squeezed her eyes as the words left her lips, "We've leaving, Jax. He took a job in Boston. We're going next weekend."

Everything seemed to happen all at once now. Jax's head fell into his hands, his shoulders sagged, tears flowed down her cheeks as she reached for him, but he shoved off the bed, pacing around the room with his hands tearing through his hair.

"Jax -"

He abruptly turned on his heel to face her, and determination flashed across his face. "That's not happening, Dylan. He's not gonna do that to you - he's not gonna do that to _us_. He can't just pick up and take you away like that."

"That's his answer to everything," she sighed heavily. "It was the same thing when my mom died. He couldn't stay in Houston anymore because everything there reminded him of her, so he packed us up without any warning and moved us to Charming instead of dealing with it. This isn't that different - he said he wants us to have a fresh start and a clean slate. He thinks he's saving Cash from the club and me from you."

Jax scrubbed a hand across his mouth. "This is fucking bullshit."

"I know," she whispered, wiping away another tear. "I'm so sorry, Jax. I don't know what to do. I don't know what we _can_ do. I have to -"

"You don't have to do anything," he cut in, and then he dipped down to a crouch in front of her, groping desperately for her hands. "You don't have to go with him, Dylan. Not if you don't want to."

A sob burst from her throat as she shook her head at him. "You think I _want_ to leave? Jax, I can't…I can't live without you. I _love_ you. I wanna be _with_ you. But I just don't know what I'm supposed to _do_."

"I know," Jax murmured, and then he brushed his thumb across her cheek in soothing movements. "I know, doll. It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

" _How_? Nothing is ever gonna be okay again."

The grin that slipped across his face gave her hope, right when she thought there was none. "'Cuz I got this, doll. Don't worry. Everything's gonna be just fine. Maybe we can't stick around here for a while after your dad leaves with Cash, but it's gonna be just fine. He can't make you do anything you don't wanna do, and I'm _not_ gonna let him take you away from me."

"What do you mean?"

Jax just lifted a shoulder with a smirk. "He thinks you're leaving town next weekend and that's fine. But you and me, doll, we'll skip out before that. We'll go somewhere he'll never find us, and then, when the coast is clear, we'll come back."

Her forehead dipped into a frown, but Jax pulled away from her now, nodding to himself as he paced around the room again.

"That's it," he murmured to himself, still nodding with his hands on his hips. "That's what we'll do."

"So…" she frowned up at him again. "Where will we go?"

Jax was still nodding to himself as he paced around the room with long, purposeful strides. "All we gotta do is hole up with another charter for a little while. Your dad will never find us 'cuz he won't even know where to look, and that charter will never give us away. You know…" his steps stalled there, and she could see the wheels in his head turning and turning, and then his face lit up, "I got it. I fucking _got_ it. Uncle fucking Jury. That's _it_."

When her lips parted, he jumped in to answer the question.

"Jury was one of my dad's best friends. He's the president of the Indian Hills charter up in Nevada. He won't say no, doll. I know it - all I gotta do is call him, tell him what's goin' on, and I know he'll help us. We might have to stay at their clubhouse for a little while until we can figure something out, but that's it. That's all we gotta do."

It took her a moment to really wrap her head around everything he was saying, but that could work. It _had_ to. What other options did they have? She couldn't go to Boston - she _wouldn't_ go to Boston.

Jax was right. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do, and all she wanted to do was be with _him_.

And yet.

"But what about my dad though? I mean, Jax…he'll fight this. He won't give up and let me stay here with you just because I want to."

Jax shook his head, determination and defiance flooding his face again. "Doesn't matter, doll. He can't make you do anything you don't wanna do. I figure, after we get to Indian Hills, and we're settled there, you can call your dad and tell him you're okay, but that you're not going to Boston. He'll never find us, and like I said - Jury would never give us away anyway, even if Gemma came knocking on his door. He'd never do that to me, or to JT. And at a certain point, a couple of days, a couple of weeks maybe, your dad will realize you're really _not_ going to Boston, that you're staying with me, and then that'll be it, and then we can come back to Charming."

"Well, what if he doesn't give up though, Jax? You know he won't."

"And if he doesn't give up," he just lifted a shoulder. "All we gotta do is hole up until you're 18, and then he can't do shit anymore even if he wanted to. What's a year, right? If we gotta move around a little bit, if we gotta stay under the radar…if we're _together_ , that's all that matters. And then once we're both 18, I can start prospecting for real, and start working full time at the shop, and then I'll have plenty of money to pay for an apartment for us and help you with school - see, doll? That's all we gotta do. Everything's gonna be fine."

Her brain still hadn't caught up with everything he'd just said, but she knew they were all out of other options. Even if it didn't work, even if her dad found her somehow and dragged her out of that clubhouse in Indian Hills kicking and screaming and all the way to Boston, at least they would've _tried_.

She just couldn't be separated from him. She couldn't be away from him. There was no way she'd survive that. No way her dad could _make_ her do something like that.

She needed him the way she needed air. There was just no living without him. And if it meant living in a clubhouse, just like the dirty one they were in now, until the coast was clear, then that was what she was going to do.

"Hey," Jax was crouched down in front of her again, tangling their hands together with a sweet smile on his face, then he reached up to close a hand around her face, "This is nothing we can't handle. Maybe it's not gonna be easy for a little while, when your dad starts kicking up a shitstorm over this, but he's gonna get over it, and we're gonna be able to move on with our lives, _together_ , just like we're supposed to."

She nodded into his hand, and squeezed her eyes shut.

"It's you and me, doll. That's it. That's all we need."

When she opened them again, the fierce determination in his blue eyes carried her forward.

"So, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna head home and start packing like you're gettin' ready to leave for Boston. Just act normal, and just act like you're going. But then you pack a separate bag too - whatever you're gonna need at the clubhouse for a while. While you're doing that, I'll get a hold of Jury and get everything figured out with him, and then as soon as I got that squared away, I'll call you and let you know the plan, okay?"

"Okay, Jax."

He pressed their foreheads together before giving her a kiss on the mouth.

"You remember what I said?" he murmured to her, waiting long enough for her to nod and so he could brush one of her tears away. "Nothing and _nobody_ is going to take you away from me. That's just not happening."

"I know," she whispered through her tears and he leaned up to kiss her again. That kiss gave her life, it gave her strength, and it gave her enough hope to believe that maybe everything really was going to be okay now. "I love you, Jax."

"I love you too, doll."

* * *

_An Hour Later_

Dylan's hands trembled as she tossed a few T-shirts into an overnight bag and then moved around her room to grab a few other things she needed - a stick of deodorant, some toothpaste and her toothbrush, and then her movements stalled just a touch when she got to her underwear drawer. After a moment's indecision, she rifled through it, purposely picking out the pairs that had a little more lace than the others.

Maybe tonight, if Jax was able to work everything out fast enough, they'd already be in Indian Hills, finally alone in a room in that clubhouse up there, and able to be together. _Really_ together.

Her heart squeezed at the thought.

And at that thought, she grabbed one of Jax's worn and soft Samcro T-shirts and threw it into her bag too.

Everything was going to be fine. She just had to make it a little bit longer, until Jax could get all the details worked out, and then, before she knew it, she'd be sitting next to him in his truck and they'd be riding out of town to Indian Hills, where her dad wouldn't be able to find her, and where he wouldn't be able to separate them.

They just had to -

But then a knock came at her bedroom door. Her dad pushed through her door just as she scrambled to shove her overnight bag under her bed. Dylan shot back up to her feet, shifting her weight so her calves hid the bag from his view.

_Just act normal. Just act like you're going to Boston._

That's what she was going to do.

When her eyes frantically flicked back to her dad, she found him watching her with dark, narrowed eyes, not unlike just an hour or so ago, when she'd come home and found her entire world about to be ripped apart. She'd given herself away then, and she had a sinking feeling she'd just done it again now.

"Dylan."

She folded her hands in front of her and chewed on her bottom lip, but her eyes drifted down to her feet. "Hey, Dad."

"I'm assuming you had a difficult conversation with your boyfriend."

Dylan pushed out a deep breath, and found herself nodding. _Just act like you're going to Boston._

"I did, Dad. It was really hard."

He tilted his head to the side, studying her every movement like she was under a magnifying glass. She might as well have been an ant under that magnifying glass in the hot sun.

"Dylan."

"Yeah, Dad?"

Even then, she still couldn't bring herself to look at him. She was too afraid of what she would see.

"How did Jax take the news? I can't imagine he's very happy about it, or with me."

She swallowed hard, but she couldn't stop her chest from heaving. "He was upset. And no, he's not very happy about it…or with you either."

"I figured as much," he nodded tightly. "So, now you're packing, is that it?"

"Well, yeah, Dad. We're leaving, aren't we? There's nothing I can do about it, and there's nothing that's gonna stop you from ruining my life, so I don't know what else I'm supposed to do right now."

There. Maybe that was enough to convince him to just leave her alone.

When her cell phone buzzed on her bed, her heart leapt in her throat. She didn't need to look at the caller ID to know it was him, that he had a plan, that he was ready to put it into motion. Now, she just needed to get her dad out of her room so she could call him back and finally start the rest of her life.

"Dylan."

" _What_?"

"I wouldn't use that tone with me if I were you."

And now, she could feel her chest heaving uncontrollably. He _knew_. She didn't know how, but he _knew._

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to -"

"If we're not leaving until next weekend, and if you just told your boyfriend you're moving across the country, why are you packing _now_? Why aren't you more upset about this, Dylan?"

Dylan sucked in a harsh breath, shuffling backward until her calves hit the side of her bed. "I _am_ upset. I'm _really_ upset. Do you really think I'm not? Do you really think I'm happy about this? You're trying to ruin my life, Dad! Of course I'm upset."

"I can see that," he nodded, but his eyes were hard as he continued to hold that magnifying glass over her head. "But you never answered my first question. Why are you packing _now_? And why did you shove that bag under your bed? Before you answer, I want you to think very carefully about how you want to handle this. You can make this easier on yourself, or you can make it harder. It's really up to you, Dylan."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He pushed out an exasperated breath and ran a hand over his eyes. "Alright. Alright. What's the plan then? You're obviously planning to go somewhere - and sooner than next weekend too. Your boyfriend isn't over here, trying to break down my front door to fight me to the death for you. You're not sitting here, acting like your entire world just crumbled around you like you did before when we first had this discussion -"

"Dad -"

He just shook his head tersely, holding up a hand to quiet her. "I'd say one of two things is happening here. Either your boyfriend doesn't really care that much about you leaving and has accepted it already or your boyfriend is planning to whisk you away before I get the chance. I'm not a betting man, but if I had to bet, I'd probably put my money on the second one. So, am I right, Dylan?"

But she held her ground, refusing to give him an answer. He seemed to know already anyway - so what difference did it make if she said it out loud?

"You're really not going to answer me? All you're doing is making it worse. Just tell me the truth for once, Dylan. He's got some kind of grand plan to run away with you, doesn't he? He thinks he can solve all your problems by just running away?"

Still, Dylan didn't respond. Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn't break.

"So what about school then? You're both just going to drop out until…when? Will you finish at all or are you planning to just always be a high school drop-out? And what about money? You don't have any. I'm sure he has some, but it's gonna run out pretty quick. And then what will you do? How will you eat? Where will you even stay? There's no way either of you could have possibly thought this through - and all you'll be doing is making a hard situation even harder."

Her chest heaved, her heart just about kicked through her stomach, tears pricked her eyes, but she kept her head held high.

"And what happens when it's time for your boyfriend to show up in court for his arrest last night and he's gone? What happens then?"

Dylan couldn't stay silent at that one. "But Cash -"

"Is not going to have the same problem," her dad cut in. "He'll appear, even if it needs to be through a video conference. I already spoke with an attorney this morning - he'll be able to do all his community service and fulfill his probation obligations in Boston because he'll be under parental supervision. That's one of the many advantages of you and your brother still being underage right now. But if you and Jax run off together, he's not exactly going to have the same opportunity as Cash, is he?"

Her lips parted to respond, but they clamped shut just as quickly.

"And if that happens, what happens to Jax? Those charges aren't just going to go away because he left town with you. They'll follow you - _both_ of you - wherever you go, and if he doesn't show up to take responsibility for his actions last night, that's just going to make it worse. And then the added charges are just going to pile up, Dylan, not to mention what might happen when they figure out where those idiots stole all those electronics from. And then you know what will happen? The police will put out a warrant for his arrest and they'll start looking for him. And as long as they're looking for him, and don't find him, that makes him a fugitive - especially if you two are stupid enough to try to leave the state on your own. Is that what you want to happen? You want him to get in more trouble because of you?"

That couldn't be true. It just _couldn't._

But if it was true, if he would get in even more trouble because of her, because he'd chosen to leave with her…

"Dylan, I need you to give me your cell phone."

"What? No -"

But he'd already scooped it off her bed before she had a chance to even make a grab for it. He glanced at the screen, huffed out a laugh, and then shoved the phone in his back pocket. Her dad blew out a harsh breath and then he just started nodding. And he kept nodding as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her from across the room.

"So here's what's going to happen now, Dylan. You're going to finish packing that bag you put under your bed, and we're all going to get on a plane today and go to Boston."

That broke the dam, and all those things she'd held back bubbled up to the surface and finally exploded.

"Dad, no!"

"This is just the way it has to be because I don't trust your boyfriend as far as I can throw him. I'm not about to give him the opportunity either - the longer we stay in town, the more chances he has to come up with another plan, and I know he will because he thinks he can outsmart me. He's gotten away with it for this long, right?"

Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, and she shook her head furiously.

"I can just hire movers to get the rest of our stuff here and bring it to Boston for us, even if it just has to go into storage for now. It's time for us to leave all this behind and start over. Figure out how to be a family again. I know I need to make some changes too, and I'm going to be a better father to you, and to your brother. I promise you that."

Her knees gave out on her and she sank into the bed. Now her entire body trembled as her shoulders shook with sobs. There was nothing else to do but sit here and cry with her head in her hands. Her dad dropped down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, as if that would comfort her somehow when _he_ was the one to blame for all this.

Life as she knew it was over. Nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing would ever be _good_ again.

Jax was the only boy she'd ever loved. The only boy who'd ever understood her. The only boy who'd ever loved her just as she was _because_ of who she was. The only boy who'd made her feel things she never thought she could feel. The only boy who'd stood by her and held her hand when she'd needed him most. The only boy who'd been her best friend and her love all at the same time.

She'd never love anyone ever again.

Not like that.

"Just…" she choked out through her tears. "Just please let me say goodbye to him. Please, Dad. Just let me say goodbye."

The arm around her shoulders tightened and she knew the answer before he even bothered to speak again.

"Sweetheart, with everything that's happened, and how far this has gone - I think the two of you just need a clean break. And honestly, Dylan, if you go over there, even if I went with you, he's not just going to let you leave. He's not just going to give you up, even though he has to. And if I let him come over here, he's not going to leave. It's just going to make a scene. It's just going to make this so much harder and more painful for you."

"No," she moaned as new tears streamed down her cheeks. "No…Dad, please. Just let me say goodbye."

"I'm sorry, Dylan."

"Dad…" she whispered. "I can't live without him. I love him, Dad. I need him…I love him so much. I don't know what I'm supposed to do without him."

His face twisted with pain, and even some regret too, but that didn't make any of this better.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know it hurts now. I know it feels like your life is ending. But, trust me, there is life after that boy. You _will_ live. You _will_ move on. You'll see, Dylan. After some time, after some space, you'll find a life in Boston that's healthier and safer, that makes you happy, that makes you feel fulfilled on your own, and without all these toxic people around you."

But that didn't help her. That just made it worse. Everything burned. Everything _hurt_. Everything that had once been good and happy and wonderful in her life had just been ripped away. He'd stomped on it all. Crushed it. Crushed _her_.

And what good would it do now to fight? To kick and scream bloody murder? He'd just pick her up and put her in the car and drive her to the airport anyway.

"Dad," Dylan whispered desperately. "Please. Just let me say goodbye. Just let me _call_ him and let him know we're leaving. Please, Dad. Just let me do that before we go."

But that appeal seemed to fall on deaf ears. In fact, her dad's face turned red, twisting with frustration and anger, even if it all didn't seem to be directed entirely at her.

"I'm sorry, Dylan, but I just don't trust him not to try something stupid with you. He forfeited the right to say goodbye to you the second he decided to try to undermine me at every turn. He doesn't get one more chance to talk you into something reckless and just plain _stupid_. If you think moving to Boston would ruin your life, then running away with that boy, without a plan, without a _thought_ about what that might actually mean for your future…Dylan, that would completely blow your life to pieces. I'm sorry that -"

"No, you're not," she murmured and shook her head at him. "You're not sorry. Don't say it if you don't really mean it."

"I really do mean it, sweetheart. I really do. The last thing I really wanna do is cause you pain, but this is just what needs to happen. The right thing for you, and the right thing for your brother, is to get as far away from this town and the people in it while you still can."

She pushed out a rough sigh as her head fell into her hands again. "What about Donna? Can I at least say goodbye to her? Donna didn't -"

"You mean the same Donna that's been helping you see your boyfriend behind my back?" her dad cut in. "That's helping you lie to me left and right? How many times were you actually at her house when you said you were, Dylan? Or were you just lying to my face and meeting up with Jax somewhere every single time?"

There wasn't anything she could say because it was true. What was the point of admitting out loud what he already knew? He proved her right when he nodded to himself, and that hand on her shoulder tightened its grip.

"That's what I thought," he murmured. "Listen, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I really am. I really don't want to take you away from school right in the middle of the semester like this, but this is just the way it has to be. We'll work on getting you and Cash enrolled at your new school first thing on Monday, and then you can start over with new friends who aren't gonna encourage those kinds of bad decisions. I'm not saying Donna's a bad person, Dylan. I'm really not. But I think you, and your brother too, just need a clean break from everything, and that includes your friends too."

Another wave of tears was on its way, but she didn't want to give him that satisfaction just yet. She just wanted to numb herself to all of this - if she couldn't feel it, then it wouldn't hurt as much, then it wouldn't feel like her heart was crumbling right here in this bedroom, where she'd spent so much of her time hoping and dreaming and planning, and now…she might never feel anything ever again.

"Just leave me alone," Dylan whispered.

He hesitated, but eventually, the hand on her shoulder slipped away and the weight next to her on the bed lifted.

Low murmurs followed him outside the room when he shut the door behind him, and she was vaguely aware, somehow, that he was talking to Cash.

"You keep an eye on her," their dad was saying now. "I need to go make a call. If she leaves this house before we're all ready to leave, that's on you, son, and I think you've done enough damage the way it is."

 _Speak for your goddamn self,_ Dylan thought mirthlessly. _You hypocrite. You asshole. You traitor. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. You ruined my life._

Dylan just sank even lower into her bed, pushing her face against her comforter as Cash crept into her room with cautious movements.

"Go away, Cash."

At this point, she really didn't want anything to do with him either. Maybe it was true what she'd told Jax earlier - that Cash hadn't meant to tell, that it had been an accident and a terrible slip-up - but that didn't change the fact that it happened. Her brother was just as guilty as her dad.

Unfortunately for her, Cash didn't listen. He crouched down by her bed, gingerly reaching out to put a hand in her hair.

"Hey," he whispered to her. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I know that's not gonna cut it. I didn't mean to rat you out to Dad like that, but it happened, and I can't undo it."

Cash paused there to gauge her reaction, but she just turned her head away from him as her shoulders shook with a fresh round of sobs.

"Maybe it didn't matter, Dylan. Maybe he was always gonna do this to keep me out of the club, you know? You would've gotten dragged along anyway."

Maybe that was true too. But it didn't make any of this better. Or easier. Or less devastating to the rest of her life.

"For what it's worth," Cash whispered to her. "I can't blame you for trying to leave with him. Jax is smart, and I think it woulda worked, at least for a little while."

Right. _At least for a little while._ And maybe that was the problem all along. They would've gotten to Indian Hills, she was sure about that. But what would've happened once they got there? Jax hadn't planned that far ahead, and so…they would've been holed up in some clubhouse in Nevada for some undetermined amount of time, underage and with hardly any money, having to rely on the kindness and discretion of strangers - or, at least they'd all be strangers to _her._

And at some point, it only would've delayed the inevitable. Because her dad was right. If Jax skipped town, that also meant he was skipping out on the charges he was facing, regardless of what the club's lawyer might've been able to do to help him. The lawyer couldn't help him if he wasn't here to actually fulfill his sentence, whatever that might be.

And in the end, she also knew that no matter where they went or how long they stayed there, her dad wouldn't give up. He wouldn't just leave with Cash and go to Boston without her too. He'd scour the ends of the earth if he had to, but he'd find them.

But then, she remembered what her dad had literally just said to her.

_That's one of the many advantages of you and your brother still being underage right now._

They were still underage _right now._ But they wouldn't always be.

That took a moment to really sink in, to really permeate through her grief and her complete devastation, but when it did sink in, hope bloomed in place of that grief, and it leapt over the top of that devastation.

"You know what, Cash? Maybe we have to go now because he actually _can_ make us go. But one year from today, it's gonna be our eighteenth birthday, and you know what that means?"

Cash frowned back at her, like he wasn't quite following her just yet.

"It means one year from today," she grinned, as hope and new resolve surged through her. "We can hop on a plane again and come back here, and he _can't_ stop us. He _can't_ stop you from prospecting. He _can't_ keep me and Jax apart. This is just like we're hitting pause for a second, right? When we're 18, we can do whatever we want and he won't be able to do anything about it."

_What's a year, right?_

That's what Jax had just told her, only an hour or so ago. It _was_ just a year. It would be hard, and she'd hate every second of it, but there had to be a way they could see each other at least a few times in between now and when she could come back. Flights from Charming to Boston couldn't be that expensive, and maybe if they timed it right, if they waited until her dad had to work a back-to-back shift at the ER or something like that, Jax could come visit her in Boston without her dad ever knowing. It would be harder to see Jax in Charming without her dad figuring it out, but she'd risk it if she had to - if that was the only option.

An hour ago, she hadn't even considered this as a possibility. One whole year had felt like a whole eternity, and it still did, but this was the only option they had. Her dad might've taken her phone for now, but she could get another one - she'd get her own prepay if she had to, and she was sure Jax would get one now too.

It would be the hardest and longest year of her life, but she could do it. _They_ could do it.

Cash was nodding to her now, and she saw that same hope and that same resolve reflecting in his dark eyes. "You're right. You're fucking _right._ Fuck him, Dylan. _Fuck_ him."

Their dad thought he had it all figured out. That he'd save them from something they didn't really need saving from. That he'd outsmarted Jax.

But he hadn't outsmarted _her._ He hadn't counted on _her._

"Did you get a chance to tell him we're leaving yet?"

"No," Dylan whispered back. "Dad took my phone. He's not even gonna let me say goodbye, Cash."

And now, how was she supposed to let him know about this new plan? The one that would actually work?

Her brother's jaw tightened, and he nodded with a fierce determination she'd never seen before. "That _fucking_ asshole."

Then her head shot off the bed. "Cash. There are payphones at airports, right?"

Then a wide, sly grin spread across her brother's face too.

In the end, after her dad practically had to carry her to the car because she was crying so hard, after just walking through the airport and seeing their flight to Boston up on the monitors nearly made her legs give out, all it took was a simple lie to get her to that payphone.

"Dad, we're just gonna go get some food, okay? Where else are we gonna go?" Cash told him, his hands in his pockets and looking as nonchalant as ever.

Some of that wasn't a lie - there really wasn't anywhere for them to go, at least not now, since they were already here at the airport in Stockton. She didn't have any money, at least not enough to pay for a cab to take her back to Charming. And she understood now that it wouldn't do her any good anyway. All it would do was delay the inevitable.

Their dad studied both of his children for a moment, before glancing at his watch. "Alright. Come back as soon as you're done though. We're boarding in ten minutes."

That was all the time they'd needed to get far enough away from the terminal that would take them to Boston, so they could find one payphone. Dylan threw her quarters in with shaky fingers as Cash took his position in front of her, blocking her from view in case their dad decided to come looking for them.

Then she dialed the one number she knew by heart, like it was forever tattooed on her memory, and prayed.

"Hello?"

Dylan nearly cried with relief. "Hey, Gemma. Is Jax there?"

* * *

_Ten Minutes Later_

His fist pounded on the front door one more time, then he stepped to the side, dipping down to peer inside the living room window. The house was dark and silent. No signs of life anywhere.

He'd tried calling her cell phone three times from the clubhouse, and four more times when he got home about fifteen minutes ago, but no answer. Right to voicemail. Like the stupid thing had just been completely turned off.

None of this made any sense.

The Shaws weren't supposed to leave until next weekend, but it looked like there'd been an abrupt change of plans. Nobody was here. She wasn't answering her phone.

Jax shook his head furiously at the front door, even as his chest began to heave and his palms grew sweaty.

None of this made any sense.

But he pounded his fist on the front door one more time and waited.

Nothing.

And as he backpedaled down the porch and through the short walkway back to his truck, his heart just couldn't grasp what his brain already knew. Even as he sat in his truck with his hands draped carelessly across the steering wheel, with his heart thundering and his chest heaving, he just couldn't accept it.

Everything was all worked out - he'd gotten a hold of Jury about ten minutes after he waved goodbye to Dylan as she pulled out of T-M's parking lot, and all he'd had to do was explain what was going on.

_Well, sure, Jax. Hey, if you need a place to crash for a while - if it'll help you and your lady, my clubhouse is yours for as long as you need it._

Jax hadn't been surprised by that response, but he'd been relieved all the same. That was all he'd needed to hear, and then he'd jumped into sorting through the rest of the details, running through some quick calculations of how far the money he had saved up would stretch, and figuring out how he was going to explain this to Gemma. It was only going to be for a couple weeks anyway, and hopefully not longer, but still…that was an angle he hadn't considered right away when he'd been pacing around Tig's room a few hours ago, flailing for any solution that might work.

Because he just couldn't live without her. He just couldn't.

She was his reason.

And without that reason, what was the point of any of this? Prospecting, working at T-M, stowing money away for his bike, keeping his grades up, being the man his dad never could…what was the point if not for her? If not _because_ of her?

It didn't mean anything if she wasn't standing next to him.

By the time he walked back into his house, the walls keeping everything at bay were still firmly in place. He couldn't accept it. He wouldn't. But when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, swinging his keys around his index finger, he found his mother standing about ten feet away from him, staring back at him with an expression he didn't like.

"Hey, Ma," he called out hesitantly.

Gemma pressed a tight smile to her face. "Hey, baby. Dylan called while you were gone."

Relief rolled over him, and all that anxiety and frustration and _fear_ lifted off his shoulders. Thank God. Thank fucking God. He was too relieved to be furious with himself that he'd missed her by mere minutes.

"Okay. What'd she say? I was just by her house and the whole place was empty."

Gemma pushed out a rough sigh and dropped her eyes to the kitchen table in between them. "Why don't you sit down, baby."

His movements stilled then, even as his heart tried to kick right out of his chest.

"Nah," Jax shook his head stiffly, refusing to give in just yet. "I don't need to sit down. What did she say, Ma?"

Her shoulders sagged a little as she sank down to a chair at the table and ran a shaky hand through her hair. "They're gone, Jax."

And even then, he just shook his head.

"Jax," Gemma tried again, her face twisting with sympathy and tenderness. "When she called just now, she said they were at the airport already. They're going to Boston today."

"What?" he spat out, still shaking his head. "They weren't supposed to leave until next weekend."

Nah. This wasn't happening right now. This wasn't how it was going to end because it _wasn't_ going to end.

"I know, baby," Gemma's sad smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and her hands were trembling as she folded them across the table. "She told me to tell you that her dad figured it out - that you two had planned to leave town together before Carter could take her to Boston."

He didn't know how to respond to that, and instead, shifted uneasily from side to side in that kitchen, with his mother staring back at him like she didn't recognize him.

"Is that really what you were gonna do, Jax? Run away with Dylan like a bat outta hell and leave us all behind? Was that your plan?"

His lips parted, but anything he might've said died in his throat. At least now he understood what had happened here - Dylan's dad had beat him to the punch, grabbing his only real reason for living and taking her 3,000 miles away, ruining his life, ruining his love, ruining his reason.

"Oh, baby," Gemma sighed, and her hands were still trembling as she raked them through her long dark hair. "I don't know what made you think abandoning your family for a girl was the right play here -"

He felt his entire body coil at that. "Ma -"

"I'm just as upset about this as you are, Jackson," Gemma bit out. "I think Carter's lost his fucking mind, thinking that just moving the problem around is gonna fix it - and I loved Dylan like she was my own daughter. You _know_ that, Jax. But running away with her was not the answer. It was never gonna be. And you're a real shit for even _thinking_ it was a possibility."

"I'm sorry, Ma. I didn't think that -"

"That's right," she cut in hotly. "You _didn't_ think. You need to start doing a little more of that around here. _Real_ thinking. _Smart_ thinking. Because what you've been doin' is just plain stupid. Your father is probably spinning in his grave right now just at the thought of you running out on the club, on your _family_ , for a girl -"

"Mom!" Jax tried again, shaking his head as he moved closer, but she just held up a hand.

"I don't want to hear it, Jackson. You've already done and said enough the way it is. Now, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news - I really am. But they're gone. They're not coming back. I'm supposed to tell you that Dylan talked through everything with her dad, and she sees now that running away with you would've been a mistake, that it wasn't a good idea. She's getting on that plane and going to Boston with her family because that's the right thing to do. She doesn't want you to call her. She doesn't want you to try to get in contact with her. She told me to tell you that it's over, Jax."

Tears stung his eyes as he sunk into a chair across from Gemma at the table. His head dropped into his hands, and even then, he wouldn't give in. He _couldn't._

Dylan wouldn't do this to him. This wasn't her. She wouldn't have just agreed to leave like that, not without at least talking to him first, not without at least saying goodbye.

She _loved_ him. He knew that. And she'd never, _ever_ hurt him this way.

"Dylan didn't say that, Mom," he whispered desperately. "She couldn't have."

Gemma sighed, her features twisting painfully as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "I'm so sorry, baby, but she did. I just talked to her, and that's what she told me. She ended it today, Jax. And you know what - maybe this isn't the worst thing. Maybe the best thing right now is just a clean break. No contact, no calls, no dragging it out and just making it harder on yourselves. If it's just over, you can both move on with the rest of your lives."

"I don't wanna move on," he murmured, furiously wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand. "I love her. I fucking _love_ her more than I fucking love anything. What am I supposed to do without her, Mom? How am I supposed to move on, huh? _How_?"

His mom swallowed hard, gingerly rising from her chair to step around the table and wrap her arms around his shoulders. Jax winced at her touch - the last thing he wanted right now was for her to touch him, to comfort him, because that would mean he'd have to start accepting it.

"I know you love her, Jax. And the way you've loved her was a really beautiful thing to see," Gemma murmured in his ear as she held him close. "But nothing lasts forever. Everything ends, sooner or later. It's gonna hurt for a while because your love for her isn't just gonna go away because she's gone. But it _does_ get easier, and you _can_ move on - trust me, baby, I know that better than anyone."

"Dylan's not dead. She didn't fucking die, Mom. She -"

"Decided to move across the country, 3,000 miles away from you, and without even coming over here to say goodbye. Now, maybe that all wasn't her choice. Her dad certainly didn't give her many options, but she still chose to leave. She still chose to end it with you today. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better. As far as I'm concerned, baby, she might as well be dead because she's not coming back. You can't sit around and wait for a ghost to walk through that door, Jax, because she's gone."

Maybe this was the moment. He could feel it creeping in, twisting and coiling around every nerve ending, pricking every one of those nerve endings alive with awareness and clarity.

Nah. She wouldn't do this to him. She wouldn't crush him this way. She wouldn't break his heart this way - not when he'd just figured out a way for them to be together, not when he'd just bought them more time.

But the longer he sat there at that kitchen table, with his mother's comforting arms wrapped around his shoulders and tears filling his eyes, the harder the truth became to ignore. Because even if he had been here to take her call just minutes before, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she'd only called because calling was easier than telling him in person.

Because the truth was - she was gone.

She wasn't coming back.

And his heart shattered all over the kitchen floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - There's one chapter left of flashbacks, and the last one will skip around through the years to fill in some holes about what exactly happened between them after she moved to Boston. Neither of them are giving up just yet, and neither one is going down without a fight and without trying harder (but, keep in mind that this was also 2002, and getting in touch with someone was a little different then than it is now. I've tried to make a point to say who has their own cell phone and who doesn't, and you'll see the hoops Jax has to jump through to try to find Dylan in the next chapter too). All that being said, by the end of the next chapter, you'll have a much clearer picture of what happened and why when we pick back up with the present time of this story, which is technically 2015.
> 
> I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter - after this, Jax and Dylan aren't going to see each other again for another 13 years, and it's all Gemma's fault ;)
> 
> I'm still working hard on my new story, 12 Rounds, but I'd like to have a few more chapters finished before I start posting. Stay tuned on that, and let me know your thoughts on this chapter!


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